


Free as a Bird

by Letticiae



Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Drama, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Romance, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-05-31
Updated: 2013-02-12
Packaged: 2017-11-06 10:56:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 38
Words: 140,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/418069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Letticiae/pseuds/Letticiae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke's life during her years in Lothering and Kirkwall. F!Hawke/Fenris/ Anders/ Sebastian/ Jethann/ Alistair/ Cullen/ Zevran/ Nathaniel. Hawke/OC in the first chapters. She won't settle until she tries them all. Who is going to claim her heart in the end? NSFW.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I've Just Seen a Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boy meets girl.

> _I've just seen a face,_  
>  I can't forget the time or place  
> Where we just met.  
> She's just the girl for me  
> And I want all the world to see we've met
> 
> _(Lennon/McCartney)_

Hawke stepped outside her family's home in Lothering, walking gingerly so as not to muddy her best pair of shoes. She was wearing a simple red silk dress her mother had sewed her. It was a nice change from the leather armor she had been wearing every day in the past couple of years.

She stood there alone glancing Old Barlin's property. Today his only son Arthur would arrive from Denerim where he had spent the last two and a half years learning to be a blacksmith from Wade, Denerim's best smith.

* * *

Arthur and Hawke were the same age. They had met when they were eleven and Hawke's family had just moved to Lothering. Arthur's mom had died a month before in childbirth, along with her baby. Barlin was still felling as lost as he had felt the night she had passed away. The old man didn't know how to deal with his own grief, let alone have a clue about how to help his child cope with his mother's unexpected death.

Without anyone to talk to, the boy would spend every morning in the village's cemetery by the Chantry, caressing the dirt and the flowers over his mother's grave. In the afternoon he would go to his room and stay there. Sometimes he wouldn't leave even for dinner and his father would just let him be.

* * *

Hawke had noticed Arthur since her first day in Lothering and thought it curious that a kid her age would spend all morning in a cemetery — she sure wouldn't like that. One day she decided to skip her early lessons at the Chantry and went after him.

"Hi. Whose grave is this?" she asked bluntly, her voice tactlessly cheerful.

He did not answer, or even move. Hawke sat down beside him and stayed quiet, just observing him. After some time, she got bored and started to organize the flowers over the grave, removing the dry and dead ones and ripping off some stray weed that had grown there. She left Arthur alone for a moment, and then returned with a dozen daisies in her hands, stolen from a house nearby. She tied them together delicately with the red ribbon from her ponytail and laid them on the grave.

"There," she said, a small proud smile on her face for having cleaned up the grave and arranged the flowers.

He finally looked at her. "Uh… thanks."

"What's your name? I'm Marian." She reached out her hand to help him up.

He met her deep dark brown eyes and took the hand she had offered. "I'm Arthur."

From that day on, they would do everything together; from the lessons in the Chantry first thing in the morning, to pulling pranks on Carver; from helping Barlin with the farm, to helping Bethany secretly practice her magical skills. The latter was one of the things they enjoyed the most. It never ceased to be fun trying to find new objects for the young mage to either set on fire or freeze.

* * *

At the age of sixteen, Marian and Arthur found out a new favorite activity for them to do together: secret rogue-training sessions with a loony red-haired Chantry sister. Her name was Leliana and she had just recently arrived in Lothering.

Hawke noticed that there was more about the young sister than she was letting show as soon as the woman had arrived in the village. The surreptitious way she moved around town, lurking around in odd places like the inn and the tavern, always carrying a dagger; it was all very unusual for a sister. And, she was often humming songs that Hawke didn't recognize. They were not the songs that were sung during service at the Chantry.

One morning, Hawke snuck out of the service early and found Leliana in the Chantry's library. When the sister heard someone was coming, she stuffed something into a bag and pretended to be absent-mindedly ruffling through a thick volume.

"The Adventures of the Black Fox? I thought sisters only read books on Andraste and the History of the Chantry." Hawke was certain this woman wasn't merely a devout sister.

"Well, mostly yes. But I like tales of great adventures, valorous heroes and captivating romances," Leliana said, smiling.

"Your accent, where is it from?"

"The same place as me, Orlais," she chuckled.

"I've never met anyone from Orlais before. I hear it's beautiful up there in spite of its peo– uh… Do you have any Orlesian tales to share?"

"Sure I do. I love stories far too much to keep them for myself. Have you heard about Aveline, The Knight of Orlais? It's a beautiful tale. I think you will like it," Leliana said.

Hawke listened attentively. Leliana's sweet voice sometimes sounded like she was singing rather than speaking.

"… blinded by his rage, he forced Aveline to her knees. 'Know your place, woman!' cried he, and slit her throat," Leliana finished her telling of the tale.

"I was hoping for a happy ending," Hawke said.

Leliana then added that Aveline was knighted and honored after her death by the king's son. It wasn't the happiest of endings but it satisfied Hawke somewhat.

"If you don't mind me saying so, you don't seem like you belong in a cloister. You carry a dagger, tell tales like a bard and there's a piece of armor coming out of your bag there."

"Oh? Well, you'd make a fine spy, wouldn't you?" Leliana retorted and by her tone of voice Hawke could tell she had upset the sister.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude," Hawke lied, trying to look innocent. "If you're a… hm, rogue? Maybe you could… teach me? There's not much to do around here, you know…"

"I'm not sure it's a go-" she was interrupted by Hawke playing her puppy eyes card. "Ok, but you can't tell anyone what we are up to. Find a place where we can practice in private," Leliana whispered.

"Great! And, please, can I see your armor?" said Hawke, lowering her voice.

"I'll show it to you later. It's called Battledress of the Provocateur and I went through a lot of trouble to get my hands on all of its pieces."

"Ok, later then. I'll find a place for our lessons. And, ah, can I bring someone?"

"No!" Leliana squeaked.

"Please, he won't tell anyone. Pleeease!" Hawke begged.

"Uh, hmm, fine! Don't make me regret this," the rogue agreed and Hawke left the Chantry beaming and clapping her hands in excitement, heading straight to Arthur's.

* * *

The sister really thought it was best that the Revered Mother or the dandy religious folk in the Chantry didn't know she used to be a bard and a spy. That was why she had insisted in keeping their training sessions secret. Leliana didn't want to have to tell them her real story, the things she had done, the people she had deceived and killed. Not that she regretted doing any of it. The fact that she had so easily agreed to teach two youngsters to be rogues made it clear how she missed her old life. She really didn't belong in the cloister.

* * *

"I met this sister, Leliana is her name. She's from Orlais and she's also a bard. She knows the most amazing stories and most importantly she's going to teach us how to fight. You know, daggers, bow and arrow, all the stuff rogues do. Maybe some poison-making… Do you think she would teach us that? I think she would. Oh, but you can't tell anyone, you see? I promised her that. I think she doesn't want the Revered Mother to know she used to play dirty, you know, being a rogue and all," Hawke babbled, so excited she couldn't stop talking.

Arthur laughed. Marian's excitement was intoxicating. He could do nothing but agree. "Well, Marian, I guess you have it all figured out, don't you? So when do we start?"

"Actually, I still have to find an isolated place where she can meet us without anyone noticing."

"I know just the place." Arthur took her hand and guided her to the village southern outskirts where some small hills and thick trees would certainly shield them from view. "What do you think?"

"It's perfect. Let's go tell Leliana."

* * *

In the years that followed, Hawke and Arthur learned how to pick locks, disarm traps, use a bow and a crossbow, make poisons, steal, ambush enemies and fight with swords, daggers and knives. Long after the sister would retire to her chambers they'd continue dueling each other. Their duels were always fierce as none had the upper hand. While he was stronger, she was quicker and they never went easy on each other. Practicing with the blades turned out to be their favorite activity.


	2. I've Got a Feeling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loss of virginity.

Hawke and Arthur shared pleasurable moments sweating, panting and rolling over each other on the ground for two years. Unfortunately those moments were just the inevitable effects of their fierce combat training. Every time Hawke pinned him, she had to face a much harder struggle against the impulse to close the distance between their lips.

Arthur was having the exact same problem. Their inexperience and uncertainties had never let them make a move on each other - one thinking that the other didn't wish anything more than friendship. As the tension from these unresolved urges grew between them, their duels got more and more aggressive and both of them often ended up covered in cuts and bruises.

Strangely enough they didn't seem to be bothered by the violent course their practices were taking. At least now Bethany had two guinea pigs on which to practice her healing magic.

It was the third time in less than a month that Leliana had to step in and break up the duel, afraid the rogues would lose control and really hurt each other. She worried about them, even though every time they got so carried away they had wicked smiles on their faces. Surely they were having some kind of twisted fun while trying to stab each other.

The sister decided she had to talk to Arthur in private about this situation. So she easily dismissed Hawke with some excuse about needing his help with tedious odds jobs at the Chantry.

"I see you and Hawke are pretty close," said Leliana, once they were alone.

"You mean Marian? Of course we are. She's my best friend."

"Your friend? Right. Yet you almost killed each other during practice today," she observed.

"She's a tough opponent and sometimes we get carried away. If I go easy on her she will hate me, probably kill me."

"You seem so tense around each other lately. Isn't there anything else going on between you two?" she asked.

"Are you thinking…? No! We're just friends," Arthur answered, clearly uneasy with that line of questioning.

"I think that's the problem."

"What do you mean?"

"You share her interests, enjoy her company, follow her around all day... maybe being friends isn't enough anymore," she pointed out.

"Do you think she likes me?"

"You're a handsome young man. From the way she loves pinning you on the ground when you fight I'd say yes, she likes you very much," she chuckled.

"Thank you, sister Leliana. And what is it you need me to do in the Chantry?"

"Never mind. Off you go, dear," she waved him off.

Arthur went home with a wide smile upon his face.

* * *

"You have to learn a trade, son," Barlin spoke when Arthur got into the house.

The old man didn't want his only son to join the army, because that meant Arthur would have to leave Lothering for good. Even though they weren't close, he was all Barlin had left. But there weren't many career opportunities in the village and usually all the youngsters left to join either the army or the templars when they reached eighteen.

"Lothering lacks a blacksmith, don't you think?"

"I guess," he answered, unsure to where this was going.

"Remember my old friend Wade? He accepted to take you as his apprentice."

"In Denerim?"

"Is that a problem?"

Arthur sighed and shook his head.

"Good. You'll make a lot of coin when you come back, being the only smith in the village and all."

The boy went into his room and lay down on his bed. He put his arms behind his head and stared pensively at the ceiling. He wasn't crazy about having his father make that decision for him, but it wasn't a bad idea. _When I come back I can tell Marian how I feel. I'll have a job and coin and I'll ask her hand in marriage_ , he made up his mind.

* * *

Hawke was holding her daggers, waiting for Arthur on their usual secret training spot. Leliana wasn't there that day. They had learned a lot already in the past two years and she was only tutoring them once a week now.

Hawke saw him coming and stepped into a fighting stance, but his sad eyes stopped her from jumping him as she usually did.

"Marian, I need to tell you something." His voice was heavy. _Why is this so hard?_ he thought.

"What's wrong?" she asked, concerned.

"I don't know the best way to tell you this. I'll just say it." He avoided meeting her gaze. It would make it easier to break the news without looking at her intense scrutinizing eyes. "I'll leave for Denerim next month. I'll be there for two years, maybe three. Father wants me to be a blacksmith. He already made all the arrangements for the trip," he spoke quickly and breathlessly, clearly nervous.

"Wait, what?" she needed a few seconds to digest this information. How could he just hurl that to her face like if it was nothing? "What do you want be?" she didn't even try to hide the anger building up in her voice.

"It doesn't matter. I-I won't disobey him."

"You barely talk to him. How come he gets to decide what you do with your life?" she said harshly.

 _Screw it! I'll just tell her I plan to ask her to marry me when I get back, after all she wouldn't be so pissed about me leaving if she didn't really like me. Maybe she's in love with me_ , he thought."This is what's best for us. I-"

"Us?" she screamed and vanished in the shadows, so he wouldn't see the tears escaping her eyes as she ran home.

"Marian, what happened?" Leandra asked as Hawke rushed past her.

"Not now, mother. I'll be in my room. Don't let Arthur in." She stomped into her bedroom and slammed the door shut.

Minutes later Arthur entered her room.

"Mother, what did I just tell you? Come on!" she yelled, rolling her eyes. "Arthur, get the hell out!"

"No." He closed the door behind him.

She tried to punch him, but he grasped her arm. She pushed him against the wall and kneed him in the groin.

"Ouch!" He let her go.

She punched him on the face. He gave her a low kick and she fell on the floor. He tried to pin her but she rolled away. A stray kick knocked over a chair, a missed punch brought down a vase on the nightstand. They were getting loud and her worried parents ran towards her bedroom's door. Hawke and Arthur were once again sweating, panting and rolling over each other as they were used to doing on a daily basis, but this time they could not hold back any longer their repressed feelings. On any other day their loss of control would have meant that they lunged to connect a killing blow and Leliana would have to break them apart before it got tragic.

There was something different about it today.

"Marian!" her mother yelled. She opened the door to find Arthur on the ground, Hawke pinning him down with her hips, kissing him eagerly and his hands grabbing her behind tightly as he pulled her body closer to him.

At Leandra's intrusion, the couple jumped to their feet.

"M-Mother, uh, at least we have our clothes on," Hawke said lifting her brows in a failed attempt to lighten up Leandra's mood.

Arthur ran past them and out of the house. Carver offered to go after him, but Malcolm told him not to. That night Hawke had to sit through a long and awkward talk with her parents about boys, virginity, sex and relationships. She was grounded for a week, the longest she had gone without seeing Arthur since the morning they had met in the cemetery six years ago.

Although he wanted to see her now more than ever, Arthur was too embarrassed to make an appearance at her house.

The following week, although technically she wasn't grounded anymore, every time she left the house, Carver was instructed by his mother to accompany her.

Arthur would leave in two weeks. Hawke needed to see him, talk to him, so she wrote him a note and trusted it to Bethany to make the delivery, warning her younger sister not to read it.

The minute Bethany was out of the house she unfolded the piece of paper.

_Meet me in your father's barn tonight at midnight._

_Yours, Marian_

Bethany giggled and went looking for Arthur.

* * *

When midnight arrived Hawke sneaked out of her house.

Arthur was very anxious and left a little earlier to meet her halfway. Lurking in the dark corners of Lothering, they headed towards the barn together. Before the barn door had closed behind them, he was already kissing her. Hawke pushed him away.

"What are you doing?" he asked, startled.

"Are you still leaving?"

"Yes," he answered, not wanting to talk about it.

"Then why are we doing this?" she questioned, her tone harsh.

"I'll be the only smith in town. I'll make a lot of coin. We could be together, get married. I have to do this."

"I don't want you to go. I can't practice my rogue skills with Bethany and Carver is an ass." Her expression saddened and she hung her head. "You're my only friend."

"When I come back we will be much more than that," he said, closing the distance between them.

Arthur embraced her and kissed her forehead. She rested her face on his chest and a lonely tear rolled down her cheek. He freed one hand to cup her chin and looked at her with his big bright green eyes.

Hawke frowned. She couldn't just let him leave. So she decided to act. Her lips touched his softly. Her tongue brushed his lower lip and he opened his mouth in a very inviting way. She deepened the kiss and he responded. Her kisses moved to his neck and she started unbuttoning his tunic.

Arthur took the hint and got rid of her blouse. He moved on to her breastband but could not figure out how to unhook it. He stopped kissing her to concentrate his efforts on the stubborn piece of clothing. It was getting awkward so Hawke took the lead.

She pushed away from him impatiently and took her boots and pants off, watching him as he followed her and quickly stripped down to just his smalls. She stretched his tunic over the hay on the ground, and she knelt on it and beckoned to him to join her.

Flushed, impatient, his fingers trembling, he knelt in front of her and reached for her breastband again. Hawke guided his hand and helped him accomplish the challenging task, her breasts spilling free and taking his breath away.

Seconds later their smallclothes were gone and Arthur's tanned body was all over her, nipping, kissing and licking her pale skin, unable to concentrate in only one part of her body at a time. Her soft hands cupped his face as she pulled his head up for a gentle kiss, trying to make him feel more relaxed. Her slender fingers delicately stroked his hair and she could feel his breath hushing.

Hawke rested her hand over his and ushered it over her body, showing him how she liked to be touched. She led him between her thighs and swiftly slipped his forefinger in her just to moisten it and rub it softly on her clit. Her hands were grasping the cloth beneath her now that he no longer needed guidance. He kept his finger on her nub, stroking and lightly pressing it, struggling to control himself as he watched her moan and writhe with his touch.

She couldn't take it any longer either, so she reached between them to grab his hard length and guide it into her entrance. He slid slowly inside her, savoring the feeling of having her so warm, wet and tight around him. Her hands clung to his arms when he reached the slight resistance inside her. As he broke through her hymen, she bit his neck to muffle a scream of both pain and pleasure.

"Are you ok?" He lifted his body to look at her.

"Yes, just… move slowly for a bit, ok?"

"Sure," he groaned in agreement, relieved that she wouldn't make him stop now.

His warm and lanky body over hers, his moaning in her ear and the slow movements quickly built up her arousal and she urged him to move faster. Having the first idea of his own that night, he pushed her legs up to his shoulders. Feeling him so deep inside her overwhelmed her with pleasure. He felt her muscles stiffening and twitching, her back arching and her nails digging into his skin as she came. The feel of her orgasm on his shaft was so alluring and luscious he couldn't hold back anymore. His thrusts became erratic as he filled her with his seed.

She winced as he gently lowered her legs – only now she realized how aching they were from that position. No doubt it was worth the pain, though. His arms started trembling so he rolled off to her side and lay down on his back.

They unintentionally sighed at same time and looked at each other, amused by the coincidence. Hawke cuddled to his chest as he wrapped his arms around her and they stayed there naked and silent for a while.

However Hawke wanted desperately to talk him out of this Denerim enterprise and decided she had to do it now. She sat down looking around for her clothes, but gave up the search when she realized he would probably find her naked figure more persuasive.

"You're going to stay here now, aren't you?" she asked trying to sound suggestive instead of demanding.

"Sure. Let's stay a little longer. Lie down," he said in a sleepy tone.

"What? I mean here. In Lothering. With me."

"No, Marian. I'm going. I have to. Let's not to do this right now. I'll be back before you notice." His voice was lazy.

"You really don't give yourself credit if you think I won't notice you gone for _two_ years. Or maybe you don't give me enough credit," she decided to completely ignore the "maybe three years" part.

"Shhh. That doesn't make any sense. It'll be ok. You'll wait for me. We'll get married." He was whispering and his eyes were closed.

"Don't shush me. I hate you!" She got up and went scrambling for her clothes in a rush.

Some of his seed ran down her thighs. "What's this? Ewww! I hate you! I hate you so much!" she yelled, putting her clothes on and going for the door as fast as she could.

Arthur laughed and let her go. He was feeling so good and replete after finally having sex for the first time that nothing could ruin his mood right now. He fell asleep almost instantly. Hours later the sunlight invading the barn through the gaps in the wood woke him up. He took his time getting up and dressed and went home grinning.


	3. We Can Work It Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teenager Hawke being a teenager.

Arthur didn't see Hawke the next day and thought that was for the best. She probably needed time to understand and accept what he was doing. He was sure his plan was a nice and romantic one. Would she realize that eventually and come to him, apologizing and trying to make up for being so immature? No, that was definitely not the kind of thing she would do.

Three days passed and she hadn't shown up. The day he'd leave was closing in and he wanted to spend the precious little time he had with her, not alone wondering how she was and what she was thinking.

Arthur swallowed his pride and embarrassment as he marched to her house. Since the day her parents caught him being really inappropriate with her, he had not set foot there anymore.

"Marian, Arthur is here. He wants to see you." Leandra said through the closed door of Hawke's room.

"I don't want to see him. Tell him to go away."

One minute later he was inside her bedroom.

"Mother, what's wrong with you? Are you kidding me?" she yelled rolling her eyes and slamming the door shut behind him.

"Marian, why don't you understand what I'm doing?" he pleaded.

"Of course I understand. Now go!" she replied sarcastically.

"If you really wanted me to go, you wouldn't have closed the door behind me," he smirked.

"Marian, if you're in there with Arthur the door stays open. I'm warning you!" Malcolm shouted from the kitchen.

"And if you keep slamming this door we will have it removed!" Leandra added.

"Fuck this damned door!" she said but not loud enough for her parents to hear.

Hawke opened the door and stormed out of the house with Arthur on her heels. She headed to the quiet spot where they use to train. She slumped there, her back leaned against a thick tree trunk and her knees folded against her chest. Arthur sat down beside her, his body barely touching hers, but she wanted so much to be with him that it was enough to break her weak defenses. She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Why didn't you come to see me before?" She spoke first. "We had sex and you didn't show up the next day and then you kept not showing. I felt like shit." Her eyes were watery and she was almost whispering.

Her warm breath on his ear, their bodies close to each other... He remembered seeing her naked in the barn. _Maker, she's so hot!_ The only come back he could think about right now was to claim her mouth with his and he did it.

She kissed him back thinking that this wasn't exactly the way she had planned this conversation to go, but she lacked willpower to stop him now. She didn't even try, so hungry was she for his touch.

She moved to his lap, straddling him. _Andraste's flaming knickers, I'm a weak girl_ , she thought. His hands slid down and grabbed her ass. He couldn't help it – she had a perfect ass. Every time she broke the kiss to catch a breath he mumbled a few words to her.

"I love you, Marian," "Please, don't cry", "I'll come back in no time," "We'll be together. I promise you."

* * *

Leandra was worried about the way Hawke and Arthur had stormed out of the house. She followed them with her eyes, looking through the window. When she saw them disappear around a corner she thought it was time to go after them. She just wanted to check on her daughter and not pick up a fight for invading her privacy or something like that, so she walked carefully trying not to make any noises. If everything looked ok, she wouldn't intrude and would leave hopefully without even being noticed.

Bethany accompanied her mother already guessing that Leandra was probably going to see something she wouldn't like. The girl thought that her presence there might help Hawke somehow.

* * *

Hawke felt his hardening member between her legs and couldn't resist grinding her body against his groin.

"I'll wait for you. I'm yours, Arthur. I love you." She moaned in his ear tracing it with her tongue.

This was too much. He couldn't take it anymore. He kept one hand on her ass and busied the other with the laces of her pants. She was aroused and went for his pants as well.

"Marian!" Leandra yelled with a mortified look on her face.

Arthur threw his hands up in the air and kept them there, trying to act like he wasn't touching anything inappropriate. His I-surrender-please-don't-kill-me gesture made Bethany giggle.

"This is getting old," Hawke said, frustrated. She held Arthur's hands and kissed his lips, lingering a little bit on that obscene position before standing up, just to infuriate her mother more.

Bethany said nothing. Her mother's shocked expression indicated her that this situation was beyond any soothing words she could provide.

Hawke went home with them and Arthur stayed there for a few more minutes, until his heart, breath and member were calm enough for him to get up and make the walk back to the farm without looking like a sex maniac.

That night, once again, there were a lot of lecturing, yelling and doors being slammed in the Amell-Hawke household.

The next morning, Bethany delivered a note from Hawke to Arthur setting up another date. Apparently, there was no amount of lecturing in the world that could stop Hawke from doing what she wanted.

* * *

Worried about Hawke's recent behavior around Arthur, Leandra convinced her husband to teach the girls how to brew a contraceptive potion. Malcolm didn't like the idea at first.

"Hawke is sleeping with that lad and they're not even engaged, isn't she? She's too danm young. I'll talk to Barlin. This is an outrage!" Malcolm was pacing and clenching his fists.

"There's nothing going on with them. I just think Marian should learn this. Bethany too. They're old enough." She said, trying to reassure Malcolm. Leandra didn't want to, but she had to drag Bethany into this mess. If she had said that it was just for Hawke, Malcolm would be sure his older daughter was sleeping with the guy and would refuse to teach her about the potion so that he wouldn't feel like he was approving or encouraging her behavior. Deep down they knew their impossible daughter probably wasn't a virgin anymore or was about to lose her virginity. About to sounded better. They settled with that option.

Leandra and Malcolm summoned the girls in the kitchen. As they began the explanations the mother noticed that this was the first time in years Hawke was listening attentively to something they were saying. Bethany just blushed furiously and tried not look at them during what was the longest half hour of her life.

"And when you get _married_ to the man you _love_ , you'll have to take a tablespoon from it every time you… are intimate, if the time is not right for you to have a baby." Leandra finished explaining while Malcolm poured the potion in an empty flask.

Bethany rushed to her room as if darkspawn were chasing her. She didn't want to risk staying in the kitchen a second longer than necessary in case someone wished to resume the subject. Malcolm whispered in Leandra's ear something about them testing the potion and they left the kitchen smiling. Hawke was the only one who lingered, waiting for everybody to clear the room so that she could fill a bottle of her own with the potion that was left in the pot.

Hawke went for her second midnight meeting in the barn fully prepared. She brought a blanket, some tissues, the contraceptive potion and even a couple of apples in case they needed a snack before going on another round. After all, they needed to practice.


	4. It Won't Be Long

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke grows up.

Hawke and Arthur met in the barn every other day during his last ten days in Lothering. "Practice makes perfect," she used to hear her father say while making Bethany practice her spellcasting until her mana was almost completely drained. Although he wouldn't approve of how his older daughter was using his advice, at least she had listened to him for once. Twice, counting the lesson about the contraceptive potion. That was two times more than he thought she had ever listened to him.

Hawke didn't want to cry her eyes out when the time came to say goodbye to Arthur, so she had been putting a lot of effort in making peace with the idea of not having him around anymore. She would miss him immensely, but the promises they made to each other comforted her. Apparently she had listened to her father more than twice for it was from him that she had learned that promises are never to be broken. They were a commitment not only of words but also of dignity and character.

Dawn was breaking when Hawke, Bethany, Barlin and Leliana gathered on the side of the road to say their goodbyes to Arthur. Leliana said she was going to pray for him and kissed his forehead. Bethany hugged him and wished him luck. Barlin patted his son on the back and turned to Hawke.

"At first I was afraid of sending Arthur away. I thought that he might never come back. Why would he, if I was all he had here? But seeing the way he looks at you, kid, I'm sure he'll come back." The old man gave her a faint smile and left. Bethany and Leliana followed him, giving the couple some privacy.

Arthur and Hawke hugged each other tightly, let escape a few sobs, shared a warm kiss, repeated their promises and made a few more before he jumped on the back of an already moving oxcart in the last row of the merchant caravan headed to Denerim. Hawke stood there until the caravan disappeared from view. Already missing him deeply, she went home to write him a letter.

* * *

Not long after Arthur's departure Malcolm passed away, leaving Hawke in charge of taking care of her family. It was a heavy burden for an eighteen-year-old girl. Everyday chores seemed so futile in times like these, that Leandra couldn't even think about them. She had given up her family, title, riches and homeland to elope and live freely with the man she loved. Now he was gone and she was supposed to wash clothes, make dinner, answer mail and shop for food as if nothing had happened? She couldn't. But needs and bills didn't respect grief. They kept coming no matter how dire life was.

Seeing how devastated her mother was over Malcolm's loss, Hawke took charge of everything, from organizing the funeral to darning socks. There was no time to mourn her father. As for the coin to provide for her family, she had to put her rogue skills to use. She got all kinds of errands to run around town even if the pay wasn't very good. Luckily Lothering was always having problems with giant spiders and wolves, sometimes even bears. And people would pay Hawke to wipe them out. She even got some work from the Blackstone Irregulars which she thought it was going to be exciting but turned out to be just courier service, delivering notes to new recruits or giving the bad news to the wives of recently deceased Irregulars.

At first, she wrote to Arthur every week. However the pressure of providing for her family was taking its toll on her and after a few months she couldn't spare time for lovesickness. Once a month was all she allowed herself to write him nowadays. Arthur on the other hand continued writing her weekly and was growing concerned when her letters stopped at all, about two years after he had left Lothering.

That was when rumors about increased darkspawn activity outside of the Deep Roads started spreading. Hawke thought that if the rumors were true, King Cailan's army officials would show up there in no time recruiting, arming and training the youngsters to join their ranks. It was the opportunity she needed – a real job, a steady one that would make it easier for her to provide for her family and, most importantly, would give her some spare coin in case they had to leave all behind, fleeing from templars to protect Bethany.

A couple months later the army officials showed up in Lothering. Hawke got in the sign up queue first thing in the morning, where Carver joined her shortly.

"What are you doing here? Go home. I don't need company," she said harshly.

"I'm not here to accompany you, sister. I will join the army," he stated.

"What? No way. I'm supposed to take care of you, not let you risk your life, Carver. Go home."

"You think you're carrying the world upon your shoulders, don't you? The poor girl who has the heaviest burden in Thedas, who has to take care of her useless family without any help."

"I never said that!" she growled.

"But you sure feel like that!" he retorted.

"That's enough, Carver. You're making a scene. Everyone is looking at us. Leave and we'll talk later, ok?" she muttered trying to avoid making a bigger scene.

"I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to do everything alone. I can help our family too and so can Bethany. We're not useless. You protect us too much. Also I'm old enough to make this decision."

 _He is right._ "Fine! I don't think you're right but you are eighteen. Join the army if that's what you want." _Actually, it'll be really nice to have someone to help with the expenses. This was a good idea. He's just a boy now but in the army he'll surely become a man. It'll be good for him. For us._

They enlisted. Training started the next day and they received new weapons and armor. A weekly wage was promised them. It was a fair amount and they would finally be able to save for emergencies. Leandra was glad to see her daughter for the first time in a long time come home looking upbeat instead of beaten down and it was only her first day as a recruit. _I guess she found her path. It's not what a parent would dream for a daughter, but it's the best she can have right now_ , her mother thought.

A week later Hawke was leaving the army training camp right outside Lothering with a grin in her face and her first wage tingling in her pouch. This day couldn't get any better. She felt such relief for not having to sign up for those petty jobs on the Chanter's Board anymore and work her ass off for some cheap bastard farmers who were afraid of spiders. She was feeling so good that she even considered killing the monstrous spider that lived in a cave in the outskirts of Lothering. She knew that spider was giving birth to thousands of others giant and poisonous ones on a daily basis, but she hadn't killed it yet. Without it spawning new spiders every day to terrorize the farmers, she would probably have run out of work and her family would have starved during these past years.

 _No, I won't kill it. If this army deal goes wrong somehow, dear monstrous spider is my plan B for getting some coin in this fucking village_ , Hawke thought cheerfully while taking off her armor and slipping into a comfortable robe in her bedroom. _I even have a plan B. This is a first. This day really can't get any better._

"What's for dinner?" Hawke entered the kitchen in a great mood and lit up the room.

 _She used to have this effect when she was a kid. I hope she doesn't lose it again_ , Leandra recollected. "This arrived today. It's from Arthur."

Hawke opened the envelope. There was a ring and a letter in it.

_Dear Marian,_

_I haven't heard about you in a while. You might have stopped writing me but that didn't change how I feel about you. On his last letter father told me you were alive and well, slaughtering giant spiders for him and the other farmers every other day. Why didn't you ever tell me this? You deserve better than being a sword for hire and I'll give you all that you deserve if you let me. I'm coming home on the twenty-fifth. I'm coming home to you, to be with you and I hope you'll have me. I'm really sorry I didn't leave Denerim sooner. If you still love me, please, forgive me for not being there for you and I'll never leave your side again._

_You must have found a ring in this envelope. I made it for you and I want you to have it whether you accept marrying me or not._

_Yours,_

_Arthur_

Hawke held the letter tight to her chest. Tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Is he coming back?" her mother asked.

Hawke nodded. Leandra stroked her daughter's dark hair and wiped her tears. "You'll be very happy together."

"I know, " Hawke said taking a deep breath and slipping on her finger the beautiful, thick gold ring with a finely carved hawk on it.

* * *

In the past years Hawke had forbidden her mind to linger in silly romantic reveries. She couldn't lose focus on the task of taking care of her family. If Arthur ever returned, like he said he would, and still loved her she would marry him, but she wouldn't waste time daydreaming about it. She had spiders to kill, wolves to hunt and coin to make.

Now all her uncertainties were settled. She had a job and so did Carver. They were making good coin and Arthur would arrive in twenty days to marry her. Everything was finally falling into place. She deserved that.

The next days she spent on the army training camp with Carver during mornings and afternoons. On the evenings she went home to plan her simple wedding and sew new smallclothes and nightgowns with Bethany and Leandra. _I'll go talk to sister Leliana tomorrow. Maybe she could officiate the wedding_ , she thought.

Hawke left her house early the following day to stop by the Chantry and see the rogue sister before heading to the army camp. When Leliana heard about the good news and started rambling about wedding dresses, shoes and hair-dos, Hawke couldn't cut her off. The sister was really happy for her former students but had to refuse officiating the wedding since she had not taken her vows. The women talked a little too much and the bride-to-be was running behind time. Hawke left the Chantry and picked up her pace trying not to be too late. Arthur would arrive the next day so she just wanted to be done with the training and go home to bathe and get a good night sleep.

The army camp was more agitated than usual and Hawke found it odd. Many soldiers were writing letters and running after couriers that were rushing in and out of the camp nonstop. Weapons were being chosen, polished and sharpened. Potions were being packed. Coin and goods were changing hands rapidly.

"Sister, where were you? " Carver said running towards her.

"I'm not that late. What's going on?" she asked.

"The King sent for us. All of us. We'll leave in two days to fight at Ostagar." He looked at her unable to decipher the expression on her face. There was no expression. She didn't know how she felt about that news.

 _This is why I joined the army, to fight. No. I joined for the coin. But I knew that the darkspawn were surfacing. What about Arthur? I waited for him; he has to wait for me too. He'll understand. I'll fight, survive and come back home. At least Carver will be with me. Thank the Maker for his defiance. We'll take care of each other_ , she made up her mind. Carver could now recognize the look upon her face. It was determination.

The siblings didn't have anyone to write to, so they took care of other stuff they needed. Carver tended to their weapons and armors while Hawke bargained for supplies, potions, a backpack and whatever else they might require.

When Carver and Hawke got home, Leandra and Bethany were already aware that half their small family would be heading to war soon. Though the mother had spent the whole day weeping about it, when her kids stepped into the house she greeted them with a wide smile, blessings and words of encouragement. Bethany didn't take the news as hard as her mother. Actually, she was proud of her siblings, of how brave they were and wished that someday she wouldn't have to hide anymore for being an apostate. Then she would fight with them and share their burden of taking care of the family.


	5. Come Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tattoos and smut.

Arthur and Hawke ran into each other's arms. As he lifted her up in a tight embrace, she was pleased to notice he was taller and bulkier. He took her hands looking for the ring he had sent her. It was right there where he hoped it would be, causing him to spill the tears he had been holding back from the moment he had set his eyes on her. He would have kissed her hands and fingers a thousand times if her mouth hadn't gone hungrily searching for his.

As Barlin, Leandra, Bethany and Carver approached to welcome Arthur back, Hawke unwillingly pulled away from him. No words had been exchanged between them yet. It wouldn't be easy telling him she would be leaving in the morning to fight a darkspawn horde at Ostagar.

"Hey, Carver, nice uniform. I see you joined the army. Good for you," said Arthur.

"Sure! I couldn't let Marian have all the fun now, could I?"

Arthur shot a confused look at Hawke who shifted her eyes avoiding his gaze.

"Those soulless darkspawn bastards will have a taste of our swords down at Ostagar, isn't that right, sister?" Carver continued before anyone could say anything.

At least now she didn't have to worry about how she was going to break this news to Arthur.

"Weren't you going to tell me about this? When are you leaving?" he asked biting his lower lip so hard he could taste blood.

"Tomorrow," she said with a barely audible voice. "I was going to tell you, I just didn't have the chance."

Everyone else took the hint and scattered, leaving the two of them alone.

"What do you mean you didn't have the chance? Did you just learn this?" he asked, making a huge effort to remain calm.

"N-No. I'm sorry," she staggered.

His eyes narrowed to slits. "I spent the last six months worried sick, without a single letter from you. You didn't even care enough to let me know you had joined the army. Even when you were still writing, you hid from me that you were living on some petty mercenary work."

"What do you care? You left me. You had no idea how dire things were after father died," she retorted.

"I didn't leave you. And I'm here now, am I not? I never stopped writing; it was you who abandoned me. I was miserable every second of every day in that blasted city without you. I couldn't think about anything else, I-"

"You didn't even come to visit, not even once!" she interrupted.

"Denerim is five days from here. Visiting my pals was a luxury I couldn't afford." He instantly regretted saying that. "Besides, Wade is crazy. He takes his work very seriously and wouldn't let me miss a day," he added trying to divert her attention from his previous sentence, but the damage was done.

"Visiting your pals? Well, this pal doesn't want your visit anymore. Here's your stupid ring. Have a good life!" She stormed away from him.

Clutching the ring tightly in his hand, he swallowed a cry of pain from his heart being broken and went home with his head hung. Though he wanted to follow her, he had learned from the arguments they had had before he left Lothering that it was better to let her calm down on her own a little.

* * *

The furious glare on Hawke's eyes tipped Carver off that he should keep his mouth shut as they walked to the army camp and she was grateful for his silence. Talking about what happened would probably make her cry and she didn't want to waste anymore tears on Arthur. At least the soldiers would be dismissed after lunch so that they could pack and say their goodbyes to their loved ones, since they would be leaving at dawn, and she could take this free time to have a pint at Dane's Refuge. She sure could use a drink.

During lunch break Carver noticed Hawke's trembling hands as she lifted a mug to her mouth and an incessant touching on the finger where the ring had been, clearly missing it. Behind her mask of fury, she was actually in pain.

"We should get a tattoo," he suggested, fumbling for a topic that would take her mind away from whatever it was that had happened between Arthur and her.

Her expression softened and she raised her eyes to meet his.

Apparently he was on the right track so he continued. "One of the guys here is a tattooist. I saw him giving John over there a griffon one. It looked pretty nice."

"Ok, let's do it!" Hawke said slamming her palms on the table and standing up.

"Really?" He looked surprised.

"Yeah, why not? It was your suggestion," she pointed out. "Or are you just a blabbering coward?"

"Of course not. I'm getting a mabari, for strength," he said going around the table to join Hawke and struggling to keep a resolute look on his face. "Let's go find the guy."

Locating the man was easy enough, for his shaved head and face were covered in drawings.

"I hear you're a tattooist. I want to get one done. I'm thinking about a big mean dragon on my back. And my brother here wants a mabari. We have coin."

"Well, that's all the information I need. The pain might be too great for you to handle, though, if I do this big mean dragon in one shot but we're leaving for Ostagar tomorrow so... Do you think you can take it?"

"I can", she asserted firmly.

"I was sure you were getting a hawk," said Carver.

At his remark, Hawke remembered the finely carved hawk on the ring that was on her finger until a few hours ago and how happy she had felt when she had received it."That's a bit too obvious. You know how I hate being predictable."

"We better get started right now. Follow me. And, kid, no chickening out! You're next," the tattooed man said, giving Carver a menacing look.

They went into his tent where he pointed her to a chair. Taking off her chestpiece, tunic and breastband and lowering the waistband of her pants and smalls she sat down with her front to the backrest, putting one leg to each side. Though Carver wanted to scold her for so nonchalantly showing her breasts to a random man without even thinking twice about it, he restrained himself as he noticed the content look in her eyes and her relaxed breathing. It wouldn't be fair to her for him to just barge in now, ruining the only peaceful moment she had all day. How could the tattooist look so undisturbed by her half-naked figure? Maybe he was used to tattooing women like that. I need to meet some of these women… he thought smiling.

At the sight of the man soaking a washrag in what was probably alcohol and rubbing it on her bare back, shoulders and neck to prepare her skin for the tattoo needles, Carver was brought back to reality. He bit his fist and went to wait outside the tent; otherwise he would have run his sword through the man and yanked her out of there.

Two hours had passed and the dragon was now fully traced. Its mouth and nostrils were reaching over her right shoulder, its pointy ears crawling up the nape of her neck, its wings on her ribs, claws looking like they were clinging to her skin, the lean body curling in her spine and a wicked spiked tail hanging to the left, ending one inch down on the curve of her behind. It was a beautiful gigantic highly detailed tattoo. As the deep red ink began to slowly fill its scales she moaned at the pleasurable pain of the thick sharp needle grazing incessantly her smooth skin.

Carver was pacing outside the tent and from time to time he would stick his head in there to check on his sister.

"Almost done here, kid. Chickened out yet?" the tattooed man yelled at Carver, taunting him.

When he looked back from the tent flaps to the camp he saw an exasperated Arthur calling Hawke's name. Barlin's son rushed to Carver, smiling to see him.

"Where is she?" he asked but waited for no answer as he heard her moan inside the tent. Furiously stomping in there, he startled the tattoo artist who dropped a rag drenched in Hawke's blood and sweat but thankfully held the needle in place. She turned her head to look at him.

Various emotions flooded Arthur's mind at sight of Hawke's half-naked body, alone with a strange man in a tent, having her soft pale skin irreparably marked for life. Betrayal for all these secrets she had been keeping from him, jealousy for another man touching her bare skin and seeing her breasts, hatred for her lack of shame in taking her clothes off in front of others, respect for her overbearing self-confidence in doing that, arousal for her hot naked body, astonishment for her stunning tattoo, love for the amazing woman she had become.

As he was having a hard time figuring out what to do next, so overwhelmed was he, Hawke and the tattooist resumed their tasks – hers being moaning and sweating.

"I see you are wearing an army uniform," she finally said, since he seemed unable to do or say anything.

"I joined. I won't leave you again. We'll go to Ostagar together, we'll fight and come back to get married. Please, take back the ring. It's yours as am I," he pleaded. She took the ring, holding it in her hand.

"We leave tomorrow, how come they let you enlist today?" she asked, keeping her voice carefully blank.

"There's a darkspawn horde to be defeated. The army officials are not exactly picky about willing help in times like these."

"Done! Definitely one of my best works! No scratching and no pulling the scab that will show up there in a few days. I'll just rub this salve over it and you're good to go," the tattoo artist had a proud grin on his face, amazed at himself for his great work.

"May I do this?" Arthur couldn't resist asking. His mind had definitely settled on arousal.

The tattooed man looked at Hawke and at her nod handed the salve to Arthur. "I'll go talk to your brother about his mabari idea", he said leaving the tent.

Even though he was being as gentle as he could, her sore feverish skin hurt at his touch. Breathing deeply she kept herself from wincing, not wanting to lose a single second of the sensation of his hands on her. The pain waned as the salve started taking effect, cooling and soothing her skin. When he reached the dragon's tail she just couldn't take it anymore. How many nights they spent aching for each other in the past years and now they were finally together but… they couldn't make love there!

"We're getting a room at Dane's. Now! Let's go!" she ordered, putting on her tunic. Breastband and chestpiece stayed off, because she couldn't take pressure over the tattoo right now.

"Good luck with your mabari, brother!" she said rushing out of the camp followed by a drooling Arthur.

Once in the rented room, clothes and pieces of armor laid scattered across the floor as they hungrily attacked each other getting rid of everything that could keep their skins apart.

"Ouch! No touching the tattoo!" she complained.

"It's everywhere! How are we going to make this work?" he retorted.

Please, she thought. What a lack of imagination! But she didn't have to answer him with words.

Pushing him to sit on the edge of the bed she crawled to his lap, straddling him. She lifted her body on her knees, keeping her breasts on his mouth level. He reveled on them, taking one nipple in his mouth and suckling eagerly, nibbling and circling it with his tongue as he teased the other with his hand, lightly pinching and rubbing it.

She slid off the bed, kneeling between his legs. Her mouth reached for his shaft making him moan as she sucked the swollen tip. His fingers entwined in her hair urging her to take his whole, hard length in her mouth. It was an impossible task, but she kept trying, her hand working up and down where her mouth couldn't reach. It had been too long since they were last together. He couldn't restrain himself and didn't want to. Holding her head in place he pumped a few times into her mouth and came flooding her throat with his seed. Before pulling away she looked up into his eyes and gave his head a sexy lick, then she closed the distance to his mouth, sharing his taste with him.

He wanted to do the same for her, to please her as she had pleased him, but couldn't think of a way to do it without her lying on her back which would certainly make her sensitive tattooed skin hurt. Noticing his hesitation, she guided him as usual. Her devilish smile as she violently pushed him on his back on the bed suggested she was up to no good. Kneeling over him, she crawled up his body until his face was between her thighs. What a glorious sight he had of her now! Her full breasts looked even bigger from this angle!

His fingers reached for her folds to separate them, fully exposing her nub to his hungry mouth. While he licked and sucked it, making her shudder and writhe on his face, he slid one and then two fingers inside her thrusting them in her warmth. His free hand grabbed her ass helping her steady herself since not even her hands clenched to the headboard were able to do so, as her body was thrown into an unending climax. Not caring if anyone could hear her, she screamed his name over and over again along with desperate pleas to the Maker. His tongue went from her clit to her sheath where he drenched his mouth in her juices giving her a few extra seconds of an already overwhelming pleasure.

She collapsed on the bed, breathing heavily. Now it was his time to share her taste and he claimed her mouth. Thrilled to feel her own sweet taste on him, she deepened the kiss, sucking his tongue and lips.

Seeing her lose herself in an insanely powerful orgasm that he had caused made him hard again and built up his confidence. He had to be within her now and he knew just the way to do it without hurting the sore skin on her back.

"On your hands and knees, Marian." His voice was hoarse and lower than usual which sent shivers up her spine, giving her no option but to readily comply. She sighed at the thought that she wasn't with the boy who left her, but with the man who came back for her.

His bruising grasp on her hips held her in place as he pushed inside her with one potent thrust. She looked over her shoulder to watch, pleased as he gasped and groaned and hammered forcefully in her sheath. It aroused him even more to notice how the ferocious dragon clinging protectively to her back seemed to be eyeing him angrily, disapproving the way he was having her. As he freed a hand to search for her clit she began slamming her body against his, helping him keep that delightfully strong pace.

His caresses on her sensitive swollen nub sent waves of lust to every inch of her body. The slamming halted, replaced by a luscious sway of her hips on his shaft. They were both thrown over their heads in a matter of seconds, their orgasms shooting like a lightning through their sweaty forms simultaneously, making them scream each other's names at the blissful lost control of their convulsing bodies. Exhausted, they collapsed in bed, lying on their stomachs and facing each other. The heavy panting kept them from sleeping so they resorted to a much needed pillow talk.

"I see the ring is back on your finger," he remarked.

"It was stupid and cold-hearted giving it back to you like that. Please, forgive me," she begged looking into his big bright green eyes.

"Only if you promise you'll never do that again."

"I promise. I love you, Arthur," she whispered in his ear.

"I love you, Marian. I'm sorry for not visiting and for calling you pal. It's just that I was so happy and relieved to finally be with you again and then along came that awful news..."

"We both did and said things we regret. Let's just never do this again, ok, pal?" she interrupted, teasing him.

"Agreed, love. Do you realize this is the first time we had sex on a real bed?" he said as he stroked her messy hair, looking at her adoringly.

"The first, the second and the third," she chuckled.

With a sudden move she sat up on the bed, looking startled as realization hit her.

"I can't believe you joined the army one day before we leave to battle the darkspawn."

"I wanted to be with you. Isn't that the most insanely romantic thing anyone has ever done? I knew you wouldn't resist me if I did something like that," he gave her a silly smile.

"It sure is insane," she answered kissing his mouth.

Immediately his hands went up her thighs, looking for her warmth. He wanted to be inside her again, though he halted as he felt on his fingers the wetness of his semen that had run down from her tight core.

"Hey, I'm still there! Doesn't that bother you anymore?" he asked, glad with his discovery.

"It never did. I just said that to piss you off", she smiled.

"I knew it!" he said beaming and turned on his back to pull her over him, ready to go another round.


	6. Live and Let Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ostagar. Character death.

Daylight was over when they left the room at Dane's Refuge. Hawke flushed as she passed by the patrons. By the way they were staring and smirking, surely the thin wood walls on their room hadn't been enough to muffle their indiscreet growls of pleasure.

"Maker, mother is going to kill me. I'd rather face the darkspawn right now," she uttered as they rushed to the door.

Unwillingly they parted ways, both having to dine, bathe, pack and sleep before beginning their journey to Ostagar.

Once at home, Hawke was thankful to find a leather sack with potions, bandages, extra undertunics and pants, smallclothes, socks and two sleeping bags already packed for Carver and her. Dinner was cold but she wolfed it down anyway, while Bethany prepared her a bath. Leandra spared her the lecture for arriving at a late hour so that Hawke could have a nice last night at home before war.

At 4 a.m. the whole village gathered at the Imperial Highway outside Lothering saying prayers and waving goodbye to their brave sons and daughters.

"Move your arses, soldiers. We have to be at Ostagar by nightfall," cried the sergeant leading the group, putting them to march.

"I didn't see Barlin," Hawke said to Arthur as they picked up the fast pace the sergeant was imposing.

"Well, he didn't come. He wanted me to be a smith, because I'd be the only one in town which means I'd make a lot of coin and never need to risk my life joining the army and going to war. It was a nice, simple plan," he explained.

"And it came so close to working. Maker, old Barlin must want to feed me to the giant spiders."

"Yes, I believe he does," he chuckled. "Just make sure I come back in one piece and he will certainly forgive you," he winked.

"Sounds like a plan. Ah, and when we come back I want new daggers and armor, all custom made by you, of course."

"You won't need those anymore. I'll take care of you."

"I just want to check if you are a good smith," she teased.

* * *

The march to Ostagar was uneventful and they arrived at nightfall, as intended. The ruins of the old Tevinter fortress and its surroundings were packed with people – thousands of soldiers, along with merchants, sisters, healers and even the few remaining Grey Wardens. It was the Wardens, thanks to their ability to sense the darkspawn, who had informed King Cailan Theirin that the bulk of the horde would show itself there. The King had acted fast, immediately sending orders for his army units throughout Ferelden to head to Ostagar. The first units that had reached the fortress had already faced three small waves of the darkspawn in the last few days under the King's command and had emerged victorious. The fourth battle, though, the one that would take place the next day, would be nothing like those three and the Warden Commander Duncan pressed the matter with Maric's son to make sure they would stand a chance against the massive darkspawn horde that was heading their way.

The soldiers set camp for the night. They were only allowed sleeping bags, because there was no room within the ruins of the fortress to accommodate tents for all of them. They were too many and more were arriving by the minute. Though tired form the day-long march, Hawke couldn't sleep. The crowd, the lack of privacy, the whispering voices of sleepless soldiers, the uneasy people walking around the sleeping bags and the anticipation for the battle kept her up while Carver and Arthur snored the night away.

She joined a group of men engaged on a lively conversation next to a fire.

"I'm telling you, my friend, there's nothing to worry about. The word is that this is not a real Blight. Besides, Teyrn Loghain's men will be waiting to flank those bastards," said one of them.

"It seems like our prospects are good, then?" Hawke chimed in.

The man answered her something which she ignored, her attention now turned to the four people covered in blood coming from the heavy gates that separated the fortress from the Korcari Wilds.

"Hey, the Warden recruits are back. I hope they found a Wilds Flower for my sick mabari," a man said getting up on his feet and leaving after them.

Hawke observed the only woman in the band. Her armor was custom-made, there was a beautiful symbol engraved on her shield, which was probably a family crest, and her hair was carefully braided in an intricate fashion. Definitely a noble. Could such a woman have freely chosen that dire path? No, nobles are never so selfless. Something must have happened to her. She's here because she had no better option. Like me, Hawke realized with a sad smile.

* * *

At daybreak all soldiers were up and ready. Sergeants were shouting orders and handing out the last instructions before the battle that would take place that night. There were no rules of engagement against the darkspawn, it was just kill them however possible and avoid their blood. Four thousand soldiers would constitute the five battalions that would face the creatures first. The archers would start the battle in the front lines, shooting flaming arrows. The mabari hounds would be released next, while the archers would retreat , granting the front lines to the warriors and dual-weapon rogues to engage the darkspawn in close combat. Ten mages would be in the last line of each battalion where they would be somewhat protected while focusing on healing the soldiers ahead of them. To avoid friendly fire, the mages were to assume defensive stances and attack only when directly attacked. Once the darkspawn forces were fully engaged in battle, a unit inside the Tower of Ishal would lit the beacon on its top, signaling Loghain it was time for his two thousand men to charge, flanking the darkspawn and assuring Ferelden a decisive victory against the tainted beasts.

Hawke, Arthur and Carver would be in the same battalion and promised they would look after each other during the fight. The whole battle strategy seemed pretty solid and the three of them felt more at ease about the night ahead. During the day they divided their potions equally – two elfroot and one stamina for each –, stashed their sleeping bags and other belongings they could not carry to the battlefield and readied their armors and weapons.

The sun was setting and the tension was almost palpable around Ostagar as the soldiers marched to take their places in the battalions. Hawke hugged Carver and gave Arthur and affectionate kiss on the lips.

"No goodbyes," she said and they nodded.

They were all in position now, prepared to make a stand.

King Cailan arose ahead of his army, but there was no time for motivational speeches. It didn't take a Grey Warden to know the darkspawn were close as a sulfuric stench filled the air and everyone could feel Thedas trembling under their feet. The ruffled noises that were coming from the Wilds were quickly getting louder and more frightening. Hawke noticed the uneasiness creeping out on the soldiers faces as they unsheathed their weapons. Probably she didn't look so well either, since she had brought the two men she loved the most into this mess. What have I done? Why did I let them come? If, Maker forbid, something happens to one of them I'll never forgive myself. She was resolute in giving her life for theirs if she had to.

"Archers!" King Cailan shouted, ordering them to fire.

That was it. The battle had started.

"Hounds!"

The mabari charged the grotesque enemies that were now within sight.

Warriors and dual-weapon rogues assumed fighting stances. They were next.

"For Ferelden!" King Cailan cried, urging them to attack.

Humans and darkspawn clashed, engaging in a gruesome struggle for their lives. Backstabs and death blows were downing the numbers on both sides. How could those beasts have combat classes and specializations? If they had mages too…

Hawke felt an excruciating pain as she found herself trapped in a crushing prison. Carver beheaded the hurlock emissary trapping her in one swift move of his greatsword. She fell to the floor and reached for an elfroot potion in her pouch.

"Thanks, Carver. I owe you one," she said, draining the flask. "Of course they have mages. This is just great! The flanking units better be coming soon," she muttered to herself, since her brother had his attention on impaling at least two genlocks at a time with his gigantic sword.

Arthur came out of stealth at her side.

"Are you ok?" he asked while landing an explosive strike on a hurlock.

"Never better," she answered connecting an unforgiving chain on another one.

The wind came back to their lungs at the sight of the lit beacon. Everything was going to be ok.

They kept fighting side by side, in synchronized moves, like if they were dancing. They vanished and reappeared right behind a genlock alpha, backstabbing him to death. Reminiscing about the great moments they had spent practicing together years ago in Lothering, they looked into each other's eyes just for a split second and smiled before resuming their deadly dance.

But there was no end to the darkspawn. Corpses, limbs, pieces of armor and weapons were piling up on the battlefield. Drained from the incessant combat, Carver joined Hawke and Arthur as they backed down to drink their stamina draughts. Where were the damned flanking forces?

The King's army was already outnumbered, when the ogres arrived wiping out the terrified men. They wouldn't stand a chance without Loghain's aid.

"King Cailan is dead, Maker helps us all," soldiers were shouting across the battlefield.

Since there was still no sign of Loghain's forces, the last standing captain ordered the archers back in the field, now wielding swords and daggers and released the mages to fire at will, but they were not nearly enough to turn things around.

"The Warden Commander is dead, there is no hope," cried a sergeant before falling with an arrow through his chest.

The remaining soldiers kept backing down, faster each second. More darkspawn were emerging and the battle was clearly lost. Without captains, sergeants, generals, anyone at all with a rank anywhere to be seen and the horde pressing them, the last standing soldiers turned on their heels and ran for their lives, limping and bleeding their way out of fortress.

The darkspawn kept advancing and sent small scouting units ahead of the horde to hunt the fleeing survivors. Hawke, Carver and Arthur, already on the move, got rid of their gauntlets and helmets, reducing the weight they were carrying, and drank all the potions they had left. Though they were covered in too many bleeding cuts to be completely healed by simple elfroot potions, any improvement in their condition would give them a better chance of escaping those tainted creatures.

* * *

It was silent behind them for the first time since they had started running two hours ago. They stopped exhausted, panting, hungry, thirsty, cold and in pain, but they couldn't just sit there and rest. They knew the enemy was on the move so they had to get to Lothering as soon as possible, warn everyone about the incoming darkspawn horde and flee with their families to a safer place. As drained as they were, they had to keep moving, so Arthur put his arm around Hawke's waist pulling her close to his side on an effort to wane the cold and make the long journey home a little more bearable. She looked so weary and it saddened him that he couldn't do anything else for her right now.

They had been walking in a slow pace for over an hour, so fatigued that each step seemed harder and heavier than the previous. Despite the sun being up for some time now, the road was still chilly and foggy. Hawke halted as she heard noises behind them.

"We shouldn't have stopped running. The darkspawn are catching up with us," she said looking over her shoulder.

"I don't hear anything. Actually, I haven't heard anything for hours. Let's just rest here for a while," Carver suggested already crumbling on the ground.

"We can't. It's too open. There's nowhere to hide." Hawke was feeling uneasy. She reached a hand to help him up and beckoned him to move faster.

"Scouts! They are coming this way!" Arthur shouted.

They tried to run, but two genlocks appeared right in front of them.

"Damned darkspawn rogues!" Hawke said unsheathing her daggers.

They were surrounded. To avoid being backstabbed by the rogues, they kept their backs to each other and assumed defensive stances.

Suddenly, Hawke opened her eyes. She was on the ground, dizzy and uncertain for how long she had been out. Both Arthur and Carver screamed her name, forcing her into full awareness. It took her one second to figure out all that was happening, but it felt like a lifetime, like if the world was slow motion.

An ogre had hurled a massive rock at them, knocking everyone out, including the five darkspawn that were surrounding them. Carver was down on his back, unarmed and struggling against a hurlock alpha that was lowering a sword to his chest. The sword was already through his armor and was starting to split his skin open right over his heart. Arthur was gasping and coughing blood, striving to breath as the ogre squished him in his hands. The weapon closer to Hawke was Carver's greatsword. Her daggers were nowhere to be seen. All the other darkspawn were either dead or unconscious. It was just her, the hurlock alpha and the ogre. Hawke couldn't hesitate or both Carver and Arthur would die. She had to choose.

She got her brother's sword. It was awfully heavy but the adrenaline rush in her body gave her the strength she needed to lift it, run towards Carver and impale the Hurlock that was about to kill him. She pulled the sword out of the creature's chest and turned around just in time to see Arthur, covered in blood, draw his last breath. The ogre hurled his haggard corpse at them and it fell at Hawke's feet. Everything was slow motion again as she looked into his big green eyes for the last time. The bright eyes that met hers in the Chantry graveyard, that stared menacingly at her during their practice duels, that were delighted to see her naked, that were sad to say goodbye to her, that cried to see her again, that admired her tattoo, that closed when they came together, that promised her all she ever wanted, that loved her and made her happy time and time again. Now they were murky and empty. She reached a trembling hand to close them, but Carver grasped her arm and yanked her out of there before she could do it. The ogre was preparing to ram them and they had to move. They were in no condition to face such a foe, but ogres are slow and they could outrun it, so they turned on their heels and ran without looking back.


	7. Run For Your Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hawkes hit the road. Character death.

Hawke and Carver sprinted at the sight of a large bridge on the road. They knew that bridge was over a river that ran through Lothering. It was now only a three-hour walk until the village. But the reason they sprinted was the water, as they were both parched, and they were grateful for the silence behind them hinting that it was safe for them to rest for a couple of minutes.

They eagerly drank the clear water and washed the sweat and dirt off their faces and hands. As they sat by the riverside, Carver motioned to take off his boots.

"Don't," Hawke said her first word since their tragic last encounter with darkspawn. "Or you won't be able to put them back on."

It was true. Carver could feel his feet sore, blistered and cramped inside the boots. The pain of putting them back on after experiencing the relief of having them off would be much worse than it was now.

"Are you okay?" he asked. He had been with his mouth shut for a long time, not knowing what to say. Finally, he decided that anything was better than nothing.

"Great! It's as good day as any to lose everything, don't you think?" she said harshly. "Let's go."

He should have kept his mouth shut.

They silently continued on their way to Lothering along the riverbank so they wouldn't go thirsty. Besides the weariness and hunger there was also the punishing sun over their heads now.

Hawke was mentally and physically devastated, struggling not to burst into tears and collapse on the ground, but she couldn't afford to waste time and energy having a break down. She had to take her family out of Lothering.

"Thank you for saving my life, sister," her brother tried again.

"I could never leave you, Carver."

"I know."

Now he had hit the spot and she gave in, shedding the painful tears she had been so resolutely holding back. She had saved Carver and he knew she would always put her family first without hesitation. She tried to convince herself her tears were only of relief and fulfillment, for she had not failed her promise to her father.

What right did she have to cry about losing Arthur, about giving up her life in benefit of her family for a second time? It was her fault that it had all come to that end and crying about it would release the tightness in her heart and ease her pain, bringing her solace she didn't deserve. She had lied to him, argued with him about it even though she was wrong. And she had given him back the ring, causing him to join the army in a desperate attempt to please her and be with her. But he wouldn't have needed to if she had been honest with him from the start, if she hadn't been so stubborn, if she had recognized she was wrong, if, if, if…

Carver put an arm across her back and brought her closer to his side. The affectionate gesture felt right, in spite of being unusual between them, and she leaned her head on his shoulder. Her mind drifted from the guilt to the heartwarming satisfaction of succeeding in keeping her promise to take care of her family. She looked at him, wiped out her tears and smiled. Home was closer now.

* * *

The village was in uproar. A small group of fleeing soldiers had managed to get there earlier, bringing the news of the lost battle and the advancing darkspawn horde. Leandra, Bethany and Barlin, along with relatives of other soldiers, were near the access to the Imperial Highway hoping to get more information and praying for the return of their sons and daughters. Many villagers were already packed and leaving town by horse, in oxcarts and even on foot.

"Oh, thank the Maker. They're here, Bethany. They're back!" Leandra ran to meet her children on the road. She tried to hide her dismay at how awful and miserable they looked with their sweaty sunburned faces, dark circles around half-lidded red eyes, ruined blood-stained armors, cuts and scratches on the arms and matted hair. She was afraid they would collapse before reaching their house.

"Where is my son?" Barlin barged in their family reunion, his expression and voice heavy with anger and despair. Hawke and Carver were back and Arthur wasn't with them. He could easily connect the dots. The worst had happened, but he wasn't ready to accept it.

Hawke just shook her head and avoided the man's glare, too exhausted and weak to have a conversation this difficult right now. Could she tell him how Arthur died? Would he even want to know? If she told him, he would like to yell at her or even punch her in the face and she would probably let him, for she felt she deserved it. He could just go ahead and knock her out already. Anything would be easier than telling him that the part she played in his only son's death was even bigger than what he was most likely imagining.

"Barlin, I'm really sorry, but now it's not the time," Leandra intervened, afraid things could get out of hand. She ordered Bethany to help her siblings get home and walked back with the farmer, letting him lash out on her the insults he had prepared for Hawke and trying to calm him every time he paused to take a breath.

At home, Carver and Hawke couldn't believe they could finally lie down. After taking off the remains of their armors, they collapsed on their beds while Bethany repeatedly casted the only healing spell she knew. It was a weak one, but better than nothing. To speed up the process, she gave them elfroot potions. Their mother arrived a few minutes later and started heating water for them to bathe and preparing them a hot meal.

Bethany healed a sleepy Hawke one cut at a time and drained a lyrium potion before moving on to Carver. He had also given in to exhaustion and was already sleeping heavily.

About an hour later, although they had not slept nearly enough, they were grateful Leandra woke them up to eat.

"We have to leave Lothering, mother. The darkspawn will be here any time now," said Hawke while dipping a big chunk of bread in her bowl of chicken soup and devouring it.

"And go where? We can't just abandon everything, Marian," Leandra stated, worried.

"I know it's hard, but you have to trust me, Mother. We cannot stay here."

"I agree, but we can't leave now, sister. We need to get some rest so that we can have a fighting chance if more darkspawn cross our path," Carver said.

"He is right, Marian. Look at yourselves. Oh, Maker!" Leandra was heartbroken about how ragged and slumped they looked.

"Okay, Mother. You and Bethany start packing. Carver and I will get some sleep and we'll all leave at dawn," Hawke said, praying that this decision would not cost them their lives.

In the middle of the night, noises of a village in turmoil awakened Hawke. Looking out of the window she saw people running and screaming and fire burning high in the distance. She put her old armor on – the one she had used before the army – and got her spare daggers. When she left her room, her family was already awake, with worried looks on their faces while they quickly got dressed.

"The darkspawn are here. We need to go. Now!" she hurried them.

"What about –" Leandra was interrupted by the twang of a sharp arrow getting stuck in their front door.

"There's no time, Mother. Leave everything!" Hawke commanded, getting out of the house with her family following her.

* * *

The four of them were making their way out through side roads, to avoid the bulk of the horde on the Imperial Highway. They didn't go very far before encountering darkspawn scouts. Bethany was eager to use her magic freely, so Hawke and Carver stayed back letting her strike them first with fire balls and then engaging the weakened survivors in close combat.

Leandra couldn't fight or help in any other way, so she used the time to whine. "Maker save us, we've lost it all. Everything your father and I built…"

"Not now, Mother. We have to keep going," Hawke interrupted harshly. There was no time to be nice or diplomatic.

The old woman was tired already and falling behind, which was putting everyone on the edge. "Why didn't we leave sooner?" Bethany snapped, glaring at her siblings.

"Why are you looking at us? We've been running since Ostagar!" Carver retorted, defending Hawke and him.

Everybody was tense and upset, about to lash their frustrations on each other, so the older sister took charge and put them back on track. "Are you insane? If we stand around arguing we'll die!"

"Lead on," Carver agreed.

Not further down the road, Bethany halted to question her siblings again, concerned that they didn't know where they were going. This was getting on Hawke's nerves. "We stay alive! That's the only thing we have to worry about now!"

"We could go to Kirkwall," Leandra suggested.

The city was far and full of templars, but it seemed like their only option. They didn't have anyone to help them anywhere else, but there they had family.

As they fought their way through more darkspawn, they found two surrounded warriors and helped them. Unfortunately, one of them was a templar. Hawke was having a hard time believing her luck. _Great, now besides these damned creatures I'll have to kill people too!_ She had never killed anyone before, just animals and darkspawn. But if she had to, she was ready to start right now.

"I stand with Bethany, templar," she said, stepping between her sister and Ser Wesley.

Aveline convinced her husband he should let this one slide since the mage and her family had just saved them. Reaching an agreement, the six of them continued together through the Wilds towards Gwaren, where they could take ship for Kirkwall or anywhere else.

The red-haired warrior found it disturbing that the rogue was looting bodies of not only darkspawn, but of humans as well that they encountered down the road. However, she decided not to pick up a fight about it now. They had better chances of survival if they stuck together.

They all felt the ground trembling as an ogre charged towards them. Everyone threw themselves out of the monster's way and it stopped facing Leandra. Carver was closer to her and jumped in, attacking it to protect his mother.

Hawke got up on her feet and as she ran to aid him, she saw the beast grab Carver, fiercely smash him on the ground and toss him aside covered in blood.

"Fucking ogre!" Hawke yelled, reaching the creature and swiftly climbing its back. She grabbed one of its horns with one hand, trying to make herself as steady as possible, and used the other hand to repeatedly stab its neck. She looked frenzied. With its blood furiously spraying out of its body, the ogre fell down on its stomach squirming and gave its last breath with Hawke still riding its back. Not sated, nevertheless, she cut its head off and swinging her arm for greater momentum she hurled it towards a group of darkspawn that was closing in on her. The head knocked down the hurlock that was ahead of the group, its horns sticking deep into his chest.

Aveline paused for a moment annoyed that that woman had no control over rage. _From where did she summon strength to do such a thing? Is it safe to be around someone so bloodthirsty? I guess… better at her side than against her, at least for now. If she keeps this crazed killer behavior we might even have a chance of living to see another day. But I'll have to keep an eye on her._

The fight was over. At the sight of Leandra on her knees, crying over Carver's dead body, Hawke's heart sunk. She couldn't believe she had failed her promise to keep them safe. She was so in love with ogres right now, she could probably kill one just with the rage in her eyes. All the men she loved were gone and she had failed them all. Couldn't the Maker grant her even a single moment of truce to mourn any of them?

"This is your fault. How could you let him charge off like that?" Predictably, Leandra was blaming her elder daughter for Carver's death.

Hawke hung her head. First Arthur and now Carver. How many more people she loved would she lead to their deaths?

She wanted to stay by her brother's side and die fighting darkspawn to protect his body. But her mother and sister still needed her. Could she just abandon him there, without a proper funeral, like if he was a nobody? Like Arthur had been abandoned… No, she wouldn't dwell on her failures. She had to steel her heart and move on, if not for her, at least for Leandra and Bethany.

Ser Wesley offered to commend Carver's soul to the Maker. The useless templar had not been fighting with them just because of a minor injury. If he could stand, how come he could not wield a weapon? Hawke had hated that ungrateful templar at first sight.

They spent no more than a couple minutes saying goodbye to Carver and it was enough for a large group of darkspawn to catch up with them. Hawke was so angry and frustrated. Couldn't the Maker give her a fucking break?

Suddenly a dragon swooped in clearing the area from all enemies and then turned into an old lady. Seeing how things had gone for her up to now, Hawke thought this witch would probably be much worse than the darkspawn she had saved them from.

Much to her sister displeasure, Bethany was quick enough to ask the witch for help, which Hawke promptly refused. Weirdly, the woman insisted in helping them, even saying that actually it was she that needed their help. Hawke finally agreed. They really didn't have a better chance of escaping Ferelden than this one Flemeth was offering.

Before they could go, though, the witch remarked they had to deal with Ser Wesley. The templar was lying down, in agony, taken by the blight. Maybe that was why he was being so useless all the time. Hawke was ready to leave him behind, but Aveline was taking her time, hesitating in making this tough decision.

Wesley was the first man Hawke thought she would kill, when he had threatened Bethany. Now, if she had to, she was again ready to do it, especially since Aveline seemed unable to, and they were wasting time that could cost their lives.

Aveline stood aside, not surprised to see the bloodthirsty rogue volunteering to take Wesley's life, but somewhat grateful that she did.

Why did Hawke not let his wife do it? Why did she want to do this? Losing her home and witnessing the death of all the men she had loved were quickly turning her into a different person. The piled up grief that she was not healed from, because she was denied time to feel it, was walling around her heart, turning her numb and settling her mind on an idea that had been taunting her since the battle of Ostagar: _there is no Maker; we're all alone in the end._

This Hawke, shattered and hollowed, had no problem in pushing a knife through a man's chest and abandon his corpse to vultures. She was already guilty of both Arthur's and Carver's deaths and was forced to leave their bodies to rot as well. This templar was just another man she would guide to his death.


	8. Chains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The remaining Hawkes get to Kirkwall. Hawke meets her companions.

Flemeth guided the women to a side route and vanished. Hawke thought the witch wouldn't keep their deal, however from time to time a bear or a wolf or even a flying swarm would magically appear before them and point them to safe paths through the Wilds. Even though they never got lost or ran into any enemies, it took them a week to reach Gwaren. At least there was always a stream or a lake where they could refill their waterskins and there were plenty of small animals so Hawke and Aveline had no trouble hunting their lunch and dinner. Nights were rough without tents and sleeping bags and the three younger women having to take turns in guard duty, but they got some sleep anyway due to exhaustion. Except for Leandra, constantly whining about how terrible their fates were, no one was in the mood to talk. Aveline was silently trying to cope with her husband's death; Hawke was obsessively focused on their survival and Bethany was unresponsive and apathetic, probably in shock. No doubt her twin had taken a piece of her with him when he had died.

* * *

Gwaren had once been a prosperous and wealthy city; built over a dwarven outpost by the same name. It had grown relying on the active trade with the dwarfs underneath it and the busy port used to ship their merchandise throughout Thedas. When the dwarven kingdoms fell to the darkspawn during the first Blight the trade with the surface had come to an end and it was never restarted. Now Gwaren was a town of fishermen and loggers that had been granted to Loghain when he had become teyrn.

Once there, Leandra sent a letter to her brother Gamlen informing him of their misfortunes and asking him to receive them in Kirkwall. The women had to pay all the coin they had to afford passage on a ship that would sail for the Free Marches the next day. After spending the night awake, sitting by the docked ship, they embarked in a crowded dark hold to begin a dreadful two-week journey to the city of chains.

The sailors were taking advantage of the desperate refugees and charging them exorbitant prices for food and water. The already unwholesome hold was becoming worse by the hour with the heat and people getting sick. Hawke took all opportunities she had to steal food from the sailors and even talked her way into their late-night Wicked Grace game. Cheating shamelessly, she won enough coin to buy her family and Aveline extra water and food. Thanks to Hawke the four women arrived in Kirkwall in better condition than all the other refugees on the ship.

The minute they docked Hawke knew there was something wrong with that place. The refugees were disembarked in the Gallows, an area with architecture even more oppressive than its name. Guardsman Wright, who was in charge of a squad protecting the walls of the city so the refugees wouldn't climb in, was quick enough to point the Knight-Commander of the templars, Meredith, as the one giving orders in Kirkwall. The Viscount himself never dared to go against her wishes, he said. Hawke was uneasy. After losing Carver, she had brought Bethany to a city ruled by a templar.

They went to see captain Ewald, who guardsman Wright said could get them into the city. The man was surrounded by Fereldans trying to get in and unabashedly asked for a bribe, which none of the refugees had the coin for.

Hawke convinced Ewald to find her uncle and maybe let the four of them in, which didn't make the others happy. A fight broke out and suddenly Hawke was killing more men, Fereldans and refugees just like her. There was no compassion left in this broken woman.

It took a few days for Gamlen to go to them. Hawke was not surprised to find out he had lost the whole inheritance her grandparents had left them to debt, after all she was getting used to always running into the worst-case scenario.

Her uncle best offer was to give Hawke and Bethany into servitude for mercenaries or smugglers for a whole year in exchange for the coin to bribe their way into the city. The smuggling job was a safer choice, since the woman in charge didn't deal in slaves. A smuggler with principles, or so it seemed. But when Hawke asked both Meeran and Athenril about the tasks she had to perform to gain a place in their bands, killing a man for Meeran sounded simpler and she went for that. It turned out to be a lot more than one man, since the guy had guards; however Hawke slaughtered them cold-heartedly. One or ten, it made no difference anymore.

"It's done," Hawke returned to Meeran.

"Good. May the vultures feed on his corpse and shit him in the ocean. Welcome to the Red Iron," he greeted her.

* * *

"If this is a trick, you'll pay for it, dwarf," Hawke hissed.

"Wonderful, I'll take that as a yes," Varric sneered, after spending a long time trying to convince her to let him tag along and help her get fifty sovereigns to join as a partner in his brother's expedition to the Deep Roads.

It took Bethany only a couple of minutes around the dwarf for her to start telling him about Carver and their escape from Lothering. How could she trust people like that? In her year as a mercenary, Hawke made no friends, took no lovers and trusted no one. Outside her uncle's hovel she talked only to Meeran and Red Iron's suppliers Elegant, Tomwise and Worthy. She didn't want to draw attention to her apostate sister, so they usually went alone on the jobs that were assigned to them; which had another advantage, for they didn't have to share the loot they would get on these jobs. Since they were not getting paid, they had to rely on loot to survive. Hawke was amazed to find out she could sell anything in Kirkwall, even moth-eaten scarves and torn trousers.

Aveline never offered to share Hawke and Bethany's burden. She took advantage of their sacrifice to get a free pass into Kirkwall and build a life of her own. When she joined the guard, Hawke took it as a personal insult. The warrior was now an enemy, since disregarding the law was a basic requirement for a mercenary. Clearly aware of that fact, Aveline often had guards following the rogue around and making her life even more difficult. Hawke had to pretend not to see them and lose them in the alleys of Lowtown, because, though she considered it many times, killing city guards wouldn't help her situation at all.

Hawke hated that blasted woman. Broken as she was, it never crossed her mind that Aveline had evidence to get her arrested any time she wanted, but wouldn't do it and the men following her were ones the guardswoman really trusted. Though not crazy about Hawke, Aveline recognized she had a debt to her fellow Fereldan and her family and wanted to make sure they were okay.

The name Hawke quickly became famous among mercenaries, raiders and all sorts of low-lives in Kirkwall. She was the one who always got the job done and the person to be called to fix the mistakes and failures of other Red Iron associates. When her year of servitude was over, Meeran wanted her to continue working for him and offered her payment. Her refusal infuriated him, but she didn't care. She was aiming much higher.

That was why Hawke ended up accepting Varric's company and help. The expedition to the Deep Roads was a perfect opportunity to make money fast. She couldn't stand another day in her uncle's stinky three-room hovel in Lowtown, not only because she had to share a small bedroom with her mother and Bethany, but mainly because of Leandra's unstoppable nagging about how they should be nobility, should have an estate and so on. Also, Gamlen had made a habit of reading her mail. And she really missed having a bathtub… Yes, she desperately needed her own place.

Putting up with the talkative dwarf paid off. He knew all the places to go and people to talk to in order to get work. Also, he convinced Hawke to go see Aveline, remarking that having a friend on the guard could be really useful. It surprised Hawke that the warrior offered to help her around during her off-duty hours, so she set an appointment for the four of them in the Hanged Man, to discuss their next moves.

When Varric told Hawke about the Grey Warden that was in the city and probably knew an entrance to the Deep Roads, she made finding him a priority. It wasn't difficult and they were in his clinic in Darktown less than an hour later.

* * *

"Forcing the mages into servitude is not the way to prevent the rise of another Imperium," Hawke said, wanting to gain the mage's trust and imagining how easier their lives would be if Bethany could live freely, without the risk of being locked up in a Circle or killed for being an apostate.

"That's not usually the response I get. Perhaps we will work together better than I had expected," Anders looked at her, amused.

The Warden healed the refugees and the poor asking nothing in return and did it to exhaustion every day. Hawke couldn't help but admire that genuinely good man who hadn't lost faith in life. Bethany thought it would be nice to have him around, thinking that maybe his hopeful and altruistic attitude towards others would soften her sister's heart a little.

Before her appointment with Anders at the Chantry, Hawke went with Bethany, Varric and Aveline to retrieve her grandparent's will from the Amell estate cellar and then clear Lowtown from some Carta thugs for Sergeant Melindra. The four of them working together made everything easier and Hawke had to admit they were a better team than only Bethany and her.

At night they went to free a mage named Karl, a friend of Anders, in exchange for the maps to a Deep Roads entrance. Hawke left her sister behind, not wanting to push their luck taking the girl into a place full of templars. It was a wise decision, for Karl had been made Tranquil and had sold them out to the templars. They were fiercely attacked and only won thanks to Anders' healing spells and his powerful angry glowing trick that frightened everyone.

Hawke saw how devastated the mage was about Karl's fate and remembered how he had told her earlier he had come to Kirkwall for him, to free him. They were obviously more than friends, she thought, but decided it was none of her business and didn't press the matter.

Aveline hurried her companions out of the place and remained there alone to deal with the impossible task of explaining how there were nine dead templars in the Chantry. No matter how much Hawke hated the guardswoman, she had to acknowledge they were on the same side.

Back in the clinic Anders explained to her about his extra passenger and Hawke had no problem accepting him for what he was. She understood what it was like to be willing to do anything to achieve an end and felt connected to him somehow. There was so much sorrow in his beautiful amber eyes…

"So that explains your sexy tortured look," she couldn't help saying, though she knew she was being insensitive in flirting with a man who had just tragically lost his lover.

"My maps are yours, as am I if you wish me to join your expedition," he said, surprising her by accepting her for what she was, with her rough manners and inappropriate flirting, as easily as she had accepted him.

A mage more powerful and experienced than Bethany, a healer and a Grey Warden, he would definitely come in handy in the Deep Roads. Hawke thought she could get used to having him around.

* * *

To make it up to Aveline about the mess in the Chantry the past night, Hawke went with her to investigate a possible caravan raid in Sundermount. It turned out to be a task a lot more complicated that it seemed and it took them two days to unravel it, but in the end the Viscount appointed the red-haired warrior to replace Jeven as Captain of the Guard. If Aveline really meant to help Hawke, as captain she would be most useful.

Varric suggested they go celebrate Aveline's promotion at the Hanged Man and took the opportunity to try and get more information out of Hawke, interrogating her about her flight from Ferelden, already writing a tale in his head. The subject bothered her deeply and her aggressive answers hinted the dwarf she had a lot of unresolved issues with her past. To make her feel more comfortable and trustful around him he decided it was best to tell her some things about him first.

"I'm a younger son. It's a difficult and dangerous profession. A lot of us die of boredom." Humor was the best way he knew to break the ice.

They were interrupted by a Rivaini woman beating the hell out of three lads and making them run as if their asses were on fire. Hawke went to get a beer from Corff, instead of asking Norah, just to check Isabela out more closely. A woman who could pull off an outfit with no pants in a place like the Hanged Man had to be really sure of herself and a good fighter too, no doubt. A couple minutes later Hawke was taking her companions to Hightown to back the pirate up in a duel.

As usual, the deed was more complicated than it seemed at first and Aveline was once again left behind to explain dead bodies in the Chantry. At least they had killed raiders and not templars, which would make things easier on the guardswoman.

It was morning when Hawke got to Lowtown. Before going into Gamlen's, she bought freshly baked bread as a peace offering for her mother who would surely want to lecture her for spending the night out and having a dozen new blood stains on her armor.

* * *

Meeran had sent Hawke a letter about a dwarf named Anso who needed someone for a job. Though she felt inclined to turn down anything coming from the Red Iron, the mention that Anso would pay well made her give it a shot. So at nightfall she took Varric, Isabela and Anders with her to meet him.

The whole thing was looking very suspicious. Thugs were expecting them in the house where the dwarf had sent them and Tevinter bounty-hunters attacked them once they were outside. It was definitely a trap since the chest they were supposed to retrieve with Anso's merchandise was empty.

And then they ran into this intriguing elf who had odd lyrium markings lighting up his dark skin. Hawke was curious about what this escaped slave had been hoping to find in the chest, but he just gave her an enigmatic answer when she asked. Another handsome man with a troubled past… Of course Hawke would help him rip the heart out of his former master. They went right away to confront the magister in a mansion in Hightown.

"Danarius, come and face me," Fenris cried the minute they went into house.

"That was subtle! Are you crazy? Why are you yelling?" she muttered.

"I want to face him and get it done with."

"Well, I'm a rogue and facing enemies is definitely not my thing. If you're in my band, you follow my lead and my orders. We'd rather flank."

"You're not in charge. I'm paying you," he snarled.

"Keep your coin. If I knew there were slavers here I'd have come and killed them anyway." She raised her hand to stop Varric and Isabela from protesting.

Fenris felt offended by that. He had just met her and she was already giving him orders. He was stronger and more capable than her. He was sure of that. If she wanted to flank or backstab enemies, that was due to her own weaknesses. He sure could face them.

"Danarius, do you hear me? Your pets cannot stop us," he continued, challenging her supposed authority.

She rolled eyes but before she could say anything shades erupted around the room, making her give up on that argument, for now.

* * *

"I assume Danarius left valuables behind. Take them if you wish… I need some air," Fenris said, leaving the mansion after they had had cut down all foes.

"It never ends. I escaped a land of dark magic only to have it hunt me at every turn. It is a plague burnt into my flesh and my soul. You harbor a viper in your midst. It will turn on you and strike when you least expect. That is in its nature," he uttered when Hawke and her companions showed up outside.

"Ah, here it comes," Anders sighed impatiently.

"You're talking about a Grey Warden and a healer." Hawke was tired and her patience was running thin with the stubborn elf. _Good thing I didn't bring Bethany or I'd have to kill this ungrateful prick._

"And a few other things, but let's not mention those," the mage unnecessarily added.

Revealing to the mage-hater elf that Anders was also some kind of abomination would definitely not help their situation, so Hawke changed the subject right away, asking Fenris about Danarius, the hunters after him and his lyrium markings.

"And, now he wishes his precious investment returned, even if he must rip it from my corpse," Fenris finished answering all her questions.

 _It seems like a waste of a perfectly handsome elf,_ she thought but didn't say it. He was a decent warrior with very unique talents and getting him to stick around would be useful, since Aveline was not always available and surely wouldn't be able to take time off the guard to join in the Deep Roads expedition. However Fenris could be dangerous for the mages in her band.

Hawke left him to cool off in the mansion where he had announced he would be staying, and went to the Hanged Man for a beer with the others.

"I wonder if we can trust him. We do need another warrior and –" she started as they took the stairs to Lowtown.

"You can't possibly be considering having this elf walking around with us, Hawke," Anders interrupted. "He could be running to the templars to tell them about me right now. It's a good thing your sister wasn't with us. Oh, Maker, if the templars come for me…"

"I guess you're right," Hawke agreed.

"Oh, that is such a shame. He seemed so _talented_. Can I recruit him just for me then?" Isabela teased.


	9. Good Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke spends time with Fenris.

The next day Hawke, Isabela and Varric went to the docks to retrieve some suspicious cargo for one of the pirate's shady friends and ended up making some extra coin for killing Carta assassins that were after Renvil Harrowmont. Later they went to Hightown to check the Chantry's board for work.

Hawke was thrilled to see a tall, handsome man in a shiny white armor boldly fire an unwavering arrow straight to Grand Cleric Elthina's hand, sticking back in the board the piece of parchment she was holding. Sebastian sure made an impression on the other three rogues and they ran to get the vellum before anyone could rip it off, all curious to know what kind of job he was offering. Learning he was Prince of Starkhaven made it even more interesting and they went to get Anders and hunt down the Flint Company right away.

Varric knew where the mercenaries could be found and after clearing their ranks from the Wounded Coast and the docks, Hawke decided it would be best to deal with the ones in Sundermount the next day. Since she also had to take Flemeth's amulet to the Dalish elves settled there and the mountain was a four-hour walk north of Kirkwall, they would leave early and probably need to camp there for the night.

While her companions went to rest and prepare for the journey, Hawke found herself at Fenris' door. She tried to convince herself she was there only to make sure he wouldn't rat Anders to the templars, but there was more to it than that. There was something about him…

Before she could knock though, four Guardsmen Pretenders surrounded her. She stunned them with a miasmic flask and sliced their throats. Three more were coming, so she vanished in smoke before their eyes and reappeared behind them, killing them with precise backstabs. A  _lot_  more showed up. She threw a second miasmic flask on the closest ones and jumped from one to another, burying her daggers in their chests. An arrow lodging on the back of her left shoulder made her fall to the ground. She knew a good archer didn't need more than a few seconds to strike. The next blow wouldn't miss her.  _This is it. A pointless death to a pointless life_.

Suddenly, she saw a blast of bright blue light and an enormous sword standing between her and the remaining thugs. Fenris moved as fast as lightning among them, ripping hearts out and splitting them in half with his mighty blow attack. All the foes within sight were down, but others could turn up at any second. It wouldn't be wise to linger outside, so he rushed her into his mansion avoiding touching her even though her armor covered her skin from head to toe.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I came to see you," she said, panting. "Andraste's ass, this hurts! I need to go to Anders."

"It's not safe to leave now. There are more of these men out there. And you don't need that mage." He looked and sounded so calm, it pissed her off. Couldn't he see her blood soaked armor and a frigging arrow stuck in her shoulder? She needed a healer.

"You've got to be kidding me! I'm going." She motioned towards the door, but he grasped the arrow making her gasp and squeak in pain. She wanted to stab him, but even the tiniest movement made it hurt more.

"I'm not letting you put our lives at risk like this, woman. You'll stay here!"

"Hey, I think I'll pass on the extra pain, thank you very much."  _You cruel elf._

He saw her watery eyes and let go of the arrow. "I'll tend to your wound."

Hawke leaned her good arm on the wall and slowly lowered herself until she was sitting on the floor. He was right; it would be unwise to go to Darktown hurt, alone and at that late hour.

He carried a bucket of water, some rags and a health potion to a table next to the hearth.

"I need to pull it out. Please, come sit closer to the fire," he tried to be gentle, secretly wishing she could go by herself and he wouldn't have to carry her.

Hawke practically dragged herself to his side, but didn't ask for his aid. "Get me something to drink. Do you have whisky?"

"Uh, there's a well-stocked cellar here. I know there's wine. There must be whisky too, I guess."

"Get some, to ease the pain and you can use it to disinfect the wound too," she said breathing heavily.

A few seconds later Fenris was back with the bottle, which she quickly downed by a third, not bothering to use a glass. "Do it," she told him, gritting her teeth, screwing her eyes shut and clenching her fists, readying herself for what it was coming.

Knelt behind her, he held her shoulder tightly to keep her in place and pulled the arrow out with one swift move. Her painful scream probably awakened half of Hightown and tears rolled down her cheeks. He briskly covered the wound with a clean rag and applied pressure on it until there was no more blood spurting out. After taking a few more gulps, she passed him the whisky, which he poured on the injury, making her wince.

"Hawke, you need to stay still for me to properly clean your wound. There might be fragments of your armor inside," he said, after taking a closer look.

"Shit! I got this armor yesterday and there's a hole in it already."

She had noticed how he had avoided touching her any more than what was strictly necessary, so whimpering in pain, but deciding it wouldn't be a good idea asking for his help, she started removing her armor and clothes and laid on her stomach on the cold hard floor only in her pants, boots and breastband. His mouth suddenly went dry and he licked his lips.

"I'm feeling a bit light-headed. I really needed to lie down and I believe this way will be better for you to clean the wound, right? Does it bother you?"

"It is fine." He sat on his heels, watching her for a moment. Her body was shapely and well-built. And that dragon… he wondered where its tail ended.

"Fenris?" she muttered weakly making his eyes shift to her face.

When did it get so hot in there? He wiped the sweat from his brow and started pouring water on the wound, cleaning it thoroughly and then pressed a rag soaked with whisky on it. With one hand she swiftly unhooked and removed her wet and blood-stained breastband, trying to make herself more comfortable. There was blood caking all over her back and along her left arm and he meticulously cleaned it all, amazed to see how her breathing was hushing and her body relaxing under his care. Danarius had inflicted him many injuries and the other slaves had always been ordered to tend to them, since he was the magister's favorite pet. However, this was the first time he was doing that for someone else.

"Hawke, you have to take the health potion," he remembered as he attentively dried her up with a soft towel.

There was no answer. She was sleeping which was expected, since she was tired, hurt, probably drunk and had lost a lot of blood. He dismissed the idea of carrying her to his bed, not wanting her to think he might have taken advantage of her. And that was when he felt like waking her up and lecturing her. They had met the day before and she was already half-naked, drunk and passed out on his floor. Was she always this reckless and irresponsible? Had she any reason to trust him like that? Nevertheless, if she weren't hurt and in pain this wouldn't have happened. But again it was foolish of her to wander alone in Hightown at night.

Still, there was no point in interrupting her sleep and scolding her now, because she most likely wouldn't remember a thing in the morning. He couldn't decide if he was angry with her or not, but he knew she would surely wake up parched and with a headache from the whisky and the blood loss, so he left a jug filled with fresh water and the health potion within her reach. And, then, he was wiping the floor around her, removing her boots, covering her with a blanket and even darning the hole in her boar hide armor, not really certain why he was this worried about making her feel better.

He got a furry rug from another room, stretched it out beside her and slumped on it wearing only his leggings and undertunic, watching her sleep until the fade claimed him too.

Dawn was breaking when she opened her eyes and it startled her to see Fenris' big green eyes staring at her. As she tried to move, the pain in her shoulder reminded her of what had happened and where she was. He gestured at the jug and the potion as she sat down holding the blanket against her bare chest.

"Who is Arthur?" he asked making her choke on the water she had been so eagerly drinking. "You were thrashing on your sleep and called this name," he tried to explain why he was asking her that, seeing how disturbed she was by his question.

"No one," she answered, getting on her feet so fast she felt dizzy.

At the sight of her naked breasts, he forgot what they were talking about. His lips parted as his gaze lingered on her small nipples, pebbled with the cold air of dawn.

"Thank you for all you did last night. I guess our debt is settled now. No need to worry about that expedition," she said, hurriedly putting on her clothes and armor, and still shaken by his question.

"I will walk you home." He was disappointed at how fast she had managed to get dressed.

"No need. I'm stopping by at Anders' first and-" she noticed he looked frustrated. It was not his fault he had heard her call Arthur's name and she actually wanted to have this elf around. He had proven himself trustworthy this past night; he was a great warrior who was also much more available than Aveline and so handsome… "You owe me nothing, but I'd like to have you along if you want to join me. Even if you don't, when your former master comes back for you, I'll gladly render you help against him."

His eyes widened slightly in surprise. "I truly do not expect your help when that day comes, but I would not turn it aside."

"Come with me to Sundermount today. I have to make a delivery and hunt down some mercenaries. The usual, you know," she smiled.

* * *

Anders and Fenris were clearly displeased at the sight of each other, but Hawke ignored them. She told the mage about her injury and he immediately put his hand over her wounded shoulder and cast a healing spell.

It bothered the elf that she had resorted to magic even though he had spent so much time taking care of her.

The three of them went to the Hanged Man to have breakfast and pick Isabela up. After Hawke hastily sneaked into Gamlen's to change her underclothes and leave a note for her mother telling she was okay and wouldn't be coming home till the following day, they were off to the mountain.

The four-hour walk seemed much longer with the constant bickering between Anders and Fenris about mages. Isabela was not a morning person and remained silent half the way, still sleepy. Hawke was grateful when the pirate finally started talking, making the men uncomfortable and embarrassed with her over-the-top flirting and advances. As long as they didn't argue about mages anymore, Hawke could put up with anything else.

When Isabela and Anders found out they had met before, at the Pearl in Denerim of all places, and got into the specifics of it, Hawke caught herself wondering for a long time about what was this "electricity thing" Anders did. And surely there must be plenty of other spells that could be used during sex. Sleeping with a mage would be most interesting... She had been alone for over a year now. Maybe it was time to jump in bed with someone, just for the fun of it, if nothing else.

* * *

It was a very long day at Sundermount and they had come down the mountain with a blood mage tagging along and a highly pissed off Fenris, who had also learned about Justice. By his angry glare, Hawke wagered he would never want to see her again once they got back to Kirkwall. At least, she would be well rewarded for taking down the Flint Company for Sebastian and some Amaranthine conspirators for Sergeant Joanna. Also, Merrill, who seemed to be a sweet girl with unique talents, would be joining her band. Thus, the day wouldn't have been a total loss even if Fenris wanted out of the group.

The sun had already set when they reached the Dalish settlement, but the elves didn't seem willing to let  _shemlen_  spend the night there. About half a mile away from the clan there was a lake and Hawke decided it was a good place to set camp. She had let Isabela in charge of getting provisions, tents and bedrolls for the journey, which proved to be a mistake. Although Rivaini had gotten four bedrolls, she had gotten only one very large tent for all of them to share. Hawke cursed herself for not foreseeing that Isabela would obviously do something like that.

"What? It's much more fun this way!" the pirate said, disregarding her companion's complaints.

Luckily Hawke had reminded Merrill to get a bedroll before they left the clan and the tent was big enough for all of them, but remembering how Fenris loved mages, she thought he would probably prefer to sleep outside. Making his way back to Kirkwall alone in the middle of the night was not an option and no matter how pissed he was with her, she wouldn't let him go. Surprisingly, he didn't even try.

Anders lit up a fire and sitting around it, while organizing their guard duty schedule, they ate a cold dinner with the provisions Isabela had packed. She had also brought a flask with rum from which everyone took a sip to help them feel warmer in the cool night. Not used to drinking and not included in the guard duty schedule, Merrill retired almost immediately, seeing no problem in sharing a tent with people she had just met. Anders followed her shortly, though not so eager to sleep close to a blood mage and a mage-hating elf.

"I enjoy a man with markings like that," Isabela purred, her gaze on Fenris.

"You've enjoyed many, I suspect," he said, keeping an impassive face.

"Where I come from, they're called  _tattoos_. Sailors get them all the time."

"Not made of lyrium, I'd imagine."

"Not a one. And the pictures are different – usually breasts."

"I suppose a pair of lyrium breasts tattooed onto my chest would make things better," Fenris uttered.

Was that sense of humor? Hawke wanted to hug Isabela. The pirate really had an effect on men and maybe she could get Fenris to stick around.

"That's me. I'm a helper," Isabela jested.

 _You really are_ , Hawke thought, satisfied.

"Hawke has a tattoo," he said, and Hawke shuddered, noticing the elf was leering at her.

"She does? And you know about it? Hmm, I can always tell when people had sex. How did I miss it this time?" Rivaini said in mocking outrage. "I want all the dirty details. Does he still wear the shackles of his life in bondage under his clothes? You know what they say about men like that, don't you?" she winked.

The elf rose to his feet abruptly and Hawke could see he was blushing as he walked away.

 _Now he is definitely not staying. Damn you, Isabela!_  "No, and I don't want to know. We didn't have sex. The tattoo is on my back and Fenris saw it, because I was attacked and he helped me. I got an arrow stu-"

"Never mind then. That is no fun," the woman cut her off.

Hawke rolled her eyes as Isabela got into the tent. The first watch was Fenris', so Hawke could get some sleep, too, but she decided to patch things up with the elf first.

He was by the lake, staring down at his reflection in the water. She admired for a few moments his beautiful profile under the silver moonlight and sighed. There was definitely something about him.

"Fenris," she approached and laid a hesitant hand on his shoulder. Even though he had his armor on, he twitched and pulled away. "Your markings, they hurt, don't they?"

"You don't want to know the answer to that."

"That  _is_  an answer, Fenris."

"I've wanted to leave my past behind me. But it won't stay there," he said in a low voice. "Tell me, have you never wanted to return to Ferelden?"

"I have no home left to return to."

"That's it? You leave it behind so easily?"

"It was not easy and it was not just my home. I lost  _everything_ to the Blight."  _Even myself_ , she thought. "My watch is next, so I better get some sleep now." She headed back to camp, running away from the painful subject.

"There's more danger inside that tent than out here," he stated.

 _Not this again_. She pretended not to listen and got into the cursed tent.

Hawke was a heavy sleeper and two hours later Fenris was awakening everyone else, trying in vain to wake her up without touching her for her turn in guard duty. Isabela finally lost her patience and shook the other woman rather violently until she was up so they all could go back to sleep.

Lazily, Hawke put on her boots, sheathed her daggers and stepped outside. Fenris was leisurely cleaning his bloodied sword by the lake. If he wasn't going to sleep, why had he awakened her? Blasted elf.

Hawke stared indiscreetly at him while he removed his chestplate and gauntlets. The past morning, she hadn't had time to admire how pleasant he looked without that menacing spiky armor. When he was done with the cleaning, he came to her.

"How long have you been on the run, Fenris?" She instantly picked a topic, not wanting to give him opportunity to ask something about her that could make her push him away.

"Three years, now. Danarius has a way of finding me – perhaps is it the markings? Whatever the means, it never takes him long to follow. This is the first time I have given him reason to pause. I suppose there are advantages in numbers."

 _Does this mean he'll be sticking around, then?_  Hawke cocked an eyebrow. Unlike her, he seemed willing to talk about his life, so she kept asking. He told her how he had lost his memories, some of his duties as a slave and his decision to live in the mansion until Danarius came for him or to hunt the magister down eventually if he didn't show. Waiting to confront the man was his only plan for the future, his only goal. It saddened her that his former master, even from afar, was still depriving him of a life of his own. Flemeth was right; she had said earlier that though his chains were broken, he wasn't truly free.

When her guard duty was over, she headed back to the tent and was surprised to see him following her and spreading his bedroll beside hers, after she had awakened Isabela for the next watch.

"Are you really going to sleep next to these  _evil_  mages?" she whispered, teasing him.

"As I had told you earlier, the greatest danger is in here. You might need me to rescue you again, so I'm staying close," he smirked.

She rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to protest but gave up when Anders let out some inarticulate groans, probably pleading to them for silence.

* * *

The first thing Fenris saw as he opened his eyes in the morning was Hawke's face. He casually reached his hand to tuck an errant strand of hair behind her ear, but halted halfway as Anders burst in announcing his watch was over and it was time for them to wake up and head back to Kirkwall. The elf, then, quickly backed out his hand, now clenched into a fist. What was he doing? For the first time since he could remember he had willingly motioned to touch someone for a purpose other than killing and he had done it nonchalantly, as if it was natural. As if he was a normal person. But he wasn't. And he couldn't just do that. It wasn't that simple. It was a good thing the abomination had interrupted him.


	10. I Should Have Known Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke gets Dog. Hawke and Anders share an intimate moment.

Hawke wondered why Fenris was quietly brooding on their way back to Kirkwall. The day before he had so heatedly argued with Anders about mages almost the entire time, and he had barely gotten started on Merrill. Had he given up convincing everyone how evil and corrupted mages were or was there just no point in talking about it because he wouldn't tag along with them anymore?

"Fenris, I was thinking about getting back at those Guardsmen Pretenders tonight and I could really use your help," she fished.

"I can come with you," Anders chimed in.

Fenris' eyes shifted quickly to the mage and back, his face unreadable. "Kirkwall nights aren't safe. Always a group of thugs around. Let's give them the fight they want."

_He is in, then. Good._

* * *

They were back in the city at lunchtime and went straight for a stew at the Hanged Man. Varric joined them there and, after being introduced to Merrill, informed them he had signed them up for about a dozen jobs from the most varied sources and employers around the Kirkwall. The way things were going, Hawke would have the money for the expedition much sooner than she thought.

"Hawke, do you think your sister could help me at the clinic this afternoon? It'll be crawling with people there, you know," Anders asked pouting.

"I guess so. Let's stop by Gamlen's and talk to her," she said avoiding looking at Fenris. She had not told him she had an apostate sister.

"Call me when you go see the prince," Isabela gave her a saucy wink and climbed the stairs up to her room.

The others left the bar together. Anders and Fenris stopped with Hawke at her uncle's hovel and Varric went on with Merrill to the Alienage to find her a home and help her negotiate rent.

"Marian," Bethany greeted. "You got mother so worried. I told her you'd be ok."

Never having heard her first name before, Fenris and Anders both repeated the word in a low whisper, "Marian," as if they were testing it on their lips.

They talked and the girl cheerfully agreed in rendering aid at the clinic. "Let me just get my staff and..."

_There we go._

Fenris snorted and left shaking his head and cursing in Arcanum. Hawke just rolled her eyes and let it go. It was best than discussing his mage issues in front of Bethany. He had already said pretty insulting things to Anders and Merrill and if she could spare her sister from his hate, she would.

The mages went to the clinic and Hawke was getting into the house when someone cried her name. It was Aveline and… a mabari? The dog excitedly ran towards her and started sniffing her boots. He cocked his head and stared at her as she crouched to take a better look at him. She cautiously moved a hand towards his muzzle letting him give a good sniff. Then he licked her palm and she finally touched him, her hand giving him a nice scratch on the back of his pointed ear. At his happy bark, she got closer, letting him lick her face.

"I knew this would work," Aveline said smiling.

"How did you find a mabari here?"

"He came on a Fereldan merchant ship. They usually have mabaris on board to help them against raiders and pirate attacks but this one hadn't imprinted on anyone and assaulted some of the sailors on the ship. I was on patrol on the docks and they asked me to get rid of it," the guardswoman explained.

"But this nice lady wouldn't kill you, right, boy? You like me, don't you?" Hawke said in a baby talk voice that, had she not seen it, Aveline would never have believed that it had come from her.

"How are you going to call him?"

"Hmm… How do you like Garrus, boy?"

He gave a playful bark and laid on his back, coyly offering his belly for a scratch.

"I think he likes it," Aveline remarked as Hawke, crooning and cooing, petted the dog.

"Thank you, Aveline," Hawke said, giving the guardswoman a nod and getting into her uncle's hovel with Garrus.

The rogue decided she would take the rest of the afternoon to wash and rest – she could go see the prince the next day, in an outfit nicer than her armor, perhaps.

In the evening, Anders walked Bethany back to Gamlen's and then went with Hawke and Varric to Hightown. He protested when they stopped at Fenris' mansion, but Hawke knocked anyway. It surprised her how fast the elf answered the door, already in his armor and with his sword sheathed on his back. Was he expecting her despite of what had happened earlier?

The Guardsmen Pretenders didn't stand a chance against the four of them. They wiped their hideout clean in no more than a few minutes. Fenris fought at his best, barely getting any scratches and felling enemies effortlessly. Actually, since the day before he had been feeling a little different every time they fought, stronger, deadlier. The abomination, on other hand, looked exhausted, panting with his hands on his knees. _Oh?_

"Mage!" he yelled, his markings flaring and his sword at ready, as he stomped towards Anders. Hawke hastily jumped in front of the elf, a dagger pointed at his neck, slightly touching his skin to show him she meant business.

"You won't hurt him!"

"He's been poisoning us with his magic!" he snarled.

If she had won a coin for each time the elf had made her roll her eyes, she wouldn't need to go on that blighted expedition. "It's Heroic Aura. It gives us great advantage in battle," she grumbled.

"I will not-"

"This is not your decision, Fenris. I put our lives at risk every day, many times a day, and I don't want any more innocent people dead because of me!" The three men watched her eyes dropping to the ground and her intimidating look turn into a somber one. Fenris lowered his sword, though her dagger remained steady on his neck.

She swallowed bitterly and returned her gaze to him. "Anders is very talented. As long as he wants to join us, I will always have him around. He keeps us alive. Are we clear?" She searched for understanding in his eyes, but found only his usual unreadable face. _Damned elf._ "Tomorrow we will all meet at the Hanged Man for breakfast and I'll split the earnings of the bounties we fulfilled this week and the loot I've been selling. Be there to take your share and if you decide our business is done and you don't want to be in my team, I'll leave you be." She finally pulled back the dagger, hoping he wouldn't threat any of her mage companions again. Having to kill him would really be a waste of a perfectly handsome elf.

His eyes shifted to the dwarf on his left, with his huge crossbow aimed at him, and to the abomination standing behind her, scowling. People seemed to so easily trust her judgment and accept her leadership. He couldn't be so trusting, he knew better.

Without saying another word, Fenris went straight to his mansion to think about what he would do. Facing Danarius alone would be suicide. He needed her. No, he needed help. But for some reason he couldn't fully comprehend he wanted it to be from her.

* * *

Hawke saw Anders was exhausted. They had been busy these past few days and when he wasn't with her, he was working at the clinic. He certainly could use a break.

"Thank you, Hawke, for standing up for me," he said, giving her a bright smile.

"You're a nice man, Anders. You deserve better. Let's go! Varric and I will walk you home to make sure you'll be ok," she smiled back.

"Kind, wise and beautiful. You must have made a deal with some demons, yourself." He noticed his flirting had surprised her. "Sorry, I shouldn't presume… Am I making you uncomfortable?"

"It's… unexpected since we're tired, sweaty and covered in blood. But keep telling me I'm beautiful. There's no way you can go wrong with that," she teased.

"Oh, I'm sure I can get more creative."

Varric cleared his throat, reminding them they were not alone. "Hawke, Blondie, I think you two can take it from here. I'll head back to the Hanged Man."

Now they were alone.

Anders was walking so close to her that his arm was brushing hers with every step. That was impolite and inappropriate and… incredibly pleasing. She wished her armor didn't cover her completely, longing for more of that easy physical contact no one else would give her. The only man she had been with was Arthur, over a year ago. And not until this week, until she met these people that were now following her around, generously helping her, had she realized how lonely she had been. She craved to be touched, to feel the comforting warmth of a hug, to find her release in the arms of a loving man. Would she ever have those things again? She needed to be healed from all that pain and grief in her heart and the only way was opening herself up for friendship, trust and love.

The other night Fenris had managed to clean her bare back without a single brush of his skin against hers. All that caution couldn't only be fear of the pain his markings might cause him. How much pain could it be anyway if the tip of a finger accidentally touched her? He probably despised not only mages, but humans too or maybe just her. It was hard to tell with him. Anders, however, was so accepting of who she was and also handsome and witty…

"It's pretty late. I don't think it's safe for you to return alone to Lowtown at this hour. Maybe you should sleep here," Anders said when they reached the clinic.

_Well, that was direct._

"I'm sorry. I don't mean in the same bed," he added, noticing his proposition had startled her. "I have a few makeshifts beds in here, because of my patients. They're awful, but we're too tired to mind, I guess." He shrugged and gave her the sweetest smile.

The truth was that he was right about the danger of walking alone at that time. They might have cleaned the streets in Hightown, but Lowtown surely wasn't safe. Maybe tomorrow night she would go with her companions to wipe out the Sharps Highwaymen gang there, but today…

"Thank you, Anders. I'll stay," she smiled back at him.

The straw makeshift bed was even worse than the deplorable one she had in her uncle's house and it was terribly cold in the clinic. She considered getting back on her armor, but that would be most uncomfortable. However, her undertunic and pants and the worn blanket Anders had given her were not enough to combat the cold. She was having a hard time falling asleep, whilst the mage had passed out instantly. He must have been absolutely drained. If she thought she had it bad at Gamlen's, the healer was having it way worse than her.

She heard ruffling coming from his makeshift bed and forced her eyes to see in the darkness. His blanket had been tossed on the floor and he was thrashing and groaning. She wrapped herself in her covers and approached him carefully and slowly, not used to walking around this place, especially in the dark. Her eyes grew accustomed to the lack of light and she could see he was sweating. She kneeled beside the narrow bed and delicately touched his forehead, feeling his skin chilly and damp. His squirming became even more intense. Gently, she stroked his hair and made hushing noises in an effort to calm him in his sleep. It wasn't working, so she held his hand and caressed if softly while whispering his name, trying to awaken him in the most tender way she could think of. The way she would like to have someone do for her every time she thrashed with nightmares of her past failures.

He opened his weary amber eyes, looking startled at first, then happy to see her. She let her hands linger on him for a second, testing if she could pull off the same easy physical contact he had offered her earlier. _Not bad. I could get used to this._ When she tried to pull back, his hand held hers, keeping her close.

"I'm sorry for awakening you. Dreadful nightmares are one of the perks that come with being a Grey Warden."

"Actually," she got up on her feet and freed her hand from his. "I wasn't sleeping just yet. I-"

"Is it too cold in here? Please, take my blanket" he said, getting up.

She looked at the awfully ragged woolen tunic and pants he was wearing. Taking his covers was not an option. She would have to endure the cold until dawn.

"I can't take your blanket. That would be unfair. Wouldn't Justice hate me for that?" she kidded.

"I suppose we can… push our beds closer together, then?" he offered hesitantly.

Ok, that might help in more than one way, since she missed being close to someone and having a good time with a man. It might as well be Anders. She only knew him for few days, but they had spent so much time together and he was attractive and caring. Just what she needed. Plus, she had been really curious about what it was like having sex with a mage. _Multiple wins! No harm can come from this! Damn! I think I've just jinxed it._

She shook that thought out of her head, nodded and they pushed the narrow beds together. He arranged the blankets one on top of the other to cover them with both. Getting under the covers, they lied down facing each other. As he swallowed and took a deep breath, she realized how close her face was to his. He smelled of leather, elfroot and… magic? His eyes fell to her mouth as her lips slowly parted. She felt goose bumps on her skin but they were of anticipation, not cold. A confident hand tucked a stray lock of her hair behind her ear, resting on the side of her head as he rose on his elbow. He had slyly pinned her under him.

Lying on her back she entwined her fingers in his hair, which was down, framing his charming face. She felt the pressure of his body coming almost completely over hers and she closed the distance to his lips. She had had enough of solitude and was eager for closeness and intimacy.

The kiss that she had started, he deepened. He nipped her lower lip, making her moan. She needed more. She grasped the nape of his neck, pressed her body tightly against his and spun him back to his bed. Straddling him, she swiftly removed first her tunic and then his. He sat up, expertly unhooking her breastband with one hand and concentrating on her breasts as she locked her legs on his back. He let just the tiniest sparkle of electricity creep on his fingertips and slowly trailed his hands from the nape of her neck, to her collarbone and down her breasts, making her shudder and gasp at the delightfully tingling sensation. As he hungrily suckled her hard nipples, his still electrified fingers caressed her waist and her stomach, making her eyelids flutter and her back arch into his touch. Her smalls were already soaked in her juices and she lusciously swayed her hips, grinding her warmth against the hard bulge in his pants.

She was tracing his ear with her tongue and nipping his lobe when both his hands slipped inside her pants, fondling her ass and making her moan his name in his ear. There was no way he could concentrate enough anymore to keep his magic that much controlled and delicate on his fingertips, so he had to cease it. But the alluring sensation lingered. The electricity had made her skin utterly sensitive. Every brush of his sexy stubble against her bare chest was making her writhe with pleasure. She had never been as aroused as she was now.

Disentangling from him, she hurriedly got out of the bed to remove the rest of her clothes.

He looked at her shapely half-naked body and reached for the laces in his pants. A bright blue light flashed on his eyes. "No," he said, letting go of his laces and sitting on the edge of the bed.

He sadly glanced at her and suddenly she felt cold again.

"I shouldn't do this. I don't want to hurt you. I'm sorry," he uttered, hanging his head.

 _What?!?_ "Hurt me. I might like it," she insisted, giving him a devious smile. Maybe it was all part of the fun. But, by the look on his face, it wasn't.

He clenched his fists and screwed his eyes shut, struggling with himself. Or Justice. "No! You saw what I did in the Chantry. That's who I am. A year ago, maybe we could have had something. But I'm not that man anymore. I'll break your heart."

 _There may be no heart left to break, you blighted man!_ She reached for her clothes and armor, trying to get dressed as quickly as she could, unable to decide which was worse – the elf who wouldn't even touch her or the mage who would make her crazy with want and then… just leave her like that! _Is this decision his or Justice's? You can never tell with damned possessed mages._

"And that might kill me as surely as the templars," he added.

Hawke wished he would stop talking, since he was only making her feel worse. She had brought this on herself when she decided to jump in bed with an abomination. Why nothing could ever be simple with her?


	11. Please Please Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut and prostitution.

Varric was surprised to see a crestfallen Anders and a scowling Hawke arrive at their gathering at the Hanged Man. By the way things were going when he had left them the night before, he had expected much better faces this morning.

Everyone but Fenris showed up. Hawke split the profits and decided which bounties they would pursue next. After breakfast, on her way to see the Prince of Starkhaven, she decided to stop by the elf's mansion. Even if he wouldn't work with her anymore, it wouldn't be right to keep his share of the money.

There was no answer when she knocked on the door, but it was unlocked and she let herself in.

"Well, I'm sure it's dinnertime somewhere in Thedas," Hawke said when she saw Fenris drinking wine straight from the bottle, slumped on an armchair. She wondered if there was any food in the mansion. He didn't seem the type that strolls along the market bartering for potatoes and meat.

"Agreggio Pavali. There are six bottles in the cellar. Danarius used to have me pour it for his guests. My appearance intimidated them, he said, which he enjoyed."

"Nothing like fear with your wine," Hawke jested.

"That's what Danarius used to say," he replied.

_Of course it is. I can't get one right with this elf._

He threw the half-full bottle against the wall, smashing it.

"I see you're redecorating the walls. I think this shade of red goes well with the rotting corpses in the entrance." _Hmm… Wait a minute, is that a smile on his face? Oh, no! It's gone._ She sighed. "I brought your cut from the jobs you went on with me," she said and put the coin on a table next to him.

"I should thank you again for helping me against the hunters. I'm sorry if I seemed ungrateful. Had I known Anso would find me a woman so capable, I might have asked him to look sooner."

_Is he flirting with me?_ "Talk is cheap," she said, tired of having too much of the conversation and none of the action. _What's wrong with men in Kirkwall?_

"Is that so? Perhaps I'll practice my flattering for your next visit. With any luck I'll become better at it."

_Now he's throwing me out. Great! Well, at least he's expecting a next visit. This means I can count him as part of the band. Finally!_

Hawke left to meet Isabela, Varric and Bethany at the Chantry, so they could collect from Sebastian before going on their next mission. The women were really curious, wanting to know more about the foxy foreign prince.

"Who are you exactly?" Hawke asked.

"I am Sebastian Vael, Prince of Starkhaven. Her Grace might prefer I introduce myself as a brother in the Chantry."

Isabela let out a frustrated sigh. Though he continued talking, Hawke stopped listening. _A fucking brother… What a waste!_

* * *

On their way to find a fugitive for Magistrate Vanard, they stopped by the Ironwood Clearing to gather ironbark for Solivitus. The place was crawling with darkspawn. It was Hawke and Bethany's first encounter with the beasts since their tragic flight from Lothering. Varric rained arrows on them while the mage called up a firestorm. Isabela and Hawke went into stealth, finishing them without being seen.

Another wave of enemies turned up, surrounding Bethany and the dwarf. Isabela and Hawke gave up stealth to call the foes' attention upon them. Though daggers don't have much range, making face-to-face combat against warriors rather dangerous, they still had a better chance at it than Varric and Bethany.

"Ogre!" Hawke cried at the unfortunately familiar sensation of the ground trembling under her feet, her blood already boiling with rage.

Not even a sharp pain on her side diverted her eyes from the monster as she sprinted towards him. Her companions screamed her name desperately, pleading to her to stop, but she wasn't listening to anything besides the ogre's roars and her heart pounding furiously.

She ducked from the massive rock he had hurled and lunged, jumping onto his chest and burying her daggers deep in it. The creature howled painfully and tried to grab her, but she was quicker. Hanging on the hilts of her blades stuck on him, she dexterously lifted herself between them, her weight making the daggers slide down his body, cutting it open up to his abdomen. With a back flip she yanked the daggers out of him and evaded his huge bleeding corpse as he collapsed face-first on the dirt.

"Maker's breath, Hawke! You do get results, don't you?" Varric spoke, astonished.

She turned to look at her companions. About two dozen darkspawn were lying dead on the ground. Isabela was next to the dwarf, staring at her with her mouth wide open and Bethany… Hawke's eyes swiftly scanned the area. The girl came from behind a rock, draining a lyrium potion, unharmed.

"Good," Hawke mumbled before collapsing on the dirt.

In a matter of seconds the three of them were around her. Varric patting on her cheek, keeping her from passing out as he tried to pour an elfroot potion in her mouth, while Isabela hastily unbuckled and removed the top part of her armor. Blood pooling under her, an excruciating pain on her side and Bethany's frightened look – she was badly wounded, that was for sure. When had it happened, though? She felt warmer as the healing magic enveloped her. Tears were streaking down the mage's face as she muttered "I won't lose you, sister" and concentrated all her mana on fulfilling her promise.

"I'm so sorry that I'm not a better healer, Marian. I did all I could, but that is going to leave a scar."

"It's okay, Bethany. I would be dead if it weren't for you," Hawke said, briskly putting her undertunic and armor back on, deciding that Varric had seen enough of her almost bare chest.

The siblings hugged affectionately. "Maybe you should go see Anders and rest for the day," Bethany advised.

"I'm fine. Let's find that fugitive," Hawke dismissed her sister's concerns, leading them to the ruins.

* * *

Back in Kirkwall, after informing the Magistrate that his son had been killed, the four of them went to the clinic. They were exhausted and bruised, scratched and limping. Hawke made a note to herself to never leave for these potentially life-threatening jobs without a warrior in the party. Maybe she should start bringing her mabari along too; he was a war hound after all.

"I'm bored. Let's do something fun," Isabela suggested when Anders finally finished patching them up.

"I don't think that's a good idea. You all arrived here in shreds and you drained Bethany! Hawke, you have to take me with you in these missions. You can't keep going on like that. Maker, look at this nasty scar! It must not have been easy to close a cut this big. You have to give yourself a break some times," the healer lectured her.

"I don't like wasting time, Anders. The sun didn't even set yet," she replied.

"We could go to the Rose. Didn't Knight-Captain Hottie asked us to interrogate the whores about a missing templar recruit?" Isabela conveniently remembered.

"Not that you needed a reason to go down there, right, Rivaini?" Varric remarked.

"We also have to talk to the elf Ninette was seeing, deliver a shawl I found and I heard the last of those Amaranthine conspirators were hiding there," Hawke listed. "Let's go!"

"If there's a chance you might get into a fight, Hawke, then I'm coming too," the mage uttered, acknowledging that she would never follow his recommendations. They were much too reasonable to be appealing to her challenging personality.

* * *

"Thank the Maker, let's leave this place," Anders said when all their deeds on the brothel were done.

"Actually, I think I'll… _talk_ to Jethann again," Hawke said, a little embarrassed.

"I learn new things about you every day," Isabela stated cheerfully. "We'll stay too, right, Varric?"

The dwarf nodded, amused. He never expected she would be fine with sleeping with a whore. "Somehow, Hawke, I imagine things won't be dull with you around."

"Maker's breath, sister! This is not why we came to Kirkwall!" Bethany protested.

"You're not this desperate, I hope. I treat a lot of these customers in my clinic," the healer stared at her in dismay.

"Yes, I am, Anders! You of all people should know that!" Hawke snapped and stormed upstairs as the mages stormed out of the whorehouse.

Varric and Isabela exchanged glances, shrugged and ordered two tankards of beer, finding themselves a table.

* * *

Jethann greeted Hawke playfully, but she just sighed, leaning against the closed door. A few minutes earlier she had talked to him in a much better mood. Since the pirate and the dwarf were there often, the red-haired elf wondered if it had been the blond man or her sister who had made her feel bad about hiring him. Both of them, perhaps.

She walked towards the bed and opened her pouch to pay him. Slowly, she counted the money in her hand, tears burning in her eyes as she started laying the coins one by one on the nightstand, miserably hoping that this new low she was reaching would be rock bottom. The last sovereign, she held it tight in her fist and thought about her life, all that had happened that brought her there, to that moment of utter loneliness and self-loathing. Her head hung in defeat as she opened her hand, letting the last coin drop from her palm.

Jethann paid close attention to her body language. Being experienced as he was in his line of work, he figured out immediately what she needed. Standing behind her only in his smalls, his nimble fingers gently pushed her hair over her shoulder, freeing the nape of her neck for his pouty lips. As he kissed her, his hands started to massage her tense shoulders. It felt good and she let her head fall back just a little as she blinked away the tears in her eyes.

She barely moved, keeping her eyes shut as he took his time undressing her, drifting his fingers lightly on her body. Holding her hand, he guided her to the bed with clean soft sheets and a real cushy mattress. The most comfortable bed she had lain down on in her whole life.

Sitting on the bed he took her feet on his lap and massaged them attentively, applying pressure on the right spots, running his fingers between her toes and raising her legs to bring them to his mouth for small kisses.

Scooting to her side, he moved on to her hands, calloused by the daggers she had been relentlessly wielding for so many years. He massaged her palms vigorously and placed tender kisses on them before advancing to her arms. His skilled hands were soft and moistened with scented oil. From time to time he would add another drop of the liquid, keeping her skin slippery but not greasy.

He beckoned her to lie on her stomach in the middle of the bed and she complied. Straddling her but not letting even a pound of his weight fall over her, he tended to her shoulders blades and her back. Her breathing relaxed and she moaned as his thumbs ran forcefully on her tensed muscles, loosening them up. His palms pressured over every inch of her back, making circular moves and his fingers trailed up and down her spine. He leaned to whisper in her ear how beautiful she was and how he had found her tattoo incredibly sexy. She smiled at his words but didn't open her eyes, maybe imagining she was with someone else.

He drew his hands gently over her new scar, along her waist and ribs and up until his oiled fingertips lightly brushed the side of her breasts. He noticed how this little teasing made her quiver, but it wasn't time for that yet. He shifted to a better position to work on her calves, and then kissed the back of her knees, sending shivers up her spine. His fingers delved on her muscular thighs, kneading them up to her behind, his palms expertly rubbing every spot. His moves became softer as he got closer to her core. He let his fingers brush lightly against her black curls and her folds many times, as if it were not on purpose, tempting her.

She was craving for more, her arousal built up to an unbearable point. After what Anders had done to her and Jethann's thorough massage, she had had enough of foreplay. She wanted to find her release. Turning on her back, she spread her legs and bent her knees, exposing to him the part of her body where she wished the most to be touched. He positioned himself between her thighs and meant to fondle with her breasts first but she pushed him down to her sex and finally looked into his ultramarine blue eyes, making peace with herself about what she was doing. He understood her urgency and took her nub in his mouth, sucking it, pressuring it and circling it with his practiced tongue. Slipping two fingers at once in her warm wet sheath, he made her groan and sway her hips. As he added a third finger and hastened his thrusts, his lips still sealed over her clit, she clutched her hands tightly in his red hair and arched her back. Her muscles tightened and her legs trembled as Jethann grazed his teeth on her hardened nub. A powerful orgasm shot through her body, causing her to writhe and shudder, not minding to muffle the loud cries of her release. The elf kept his fingers inside her, caressing her walls and making her climax last longer.

Oh, that feeling! How could she have gone for so long without it? She finally let go of his hair, her body turning into jelly on the bed. He rose to sit on his heels, smiling deviously at her and pleased with himself for another job well done.

"Take off your smalls," she demanded, narrowing her eyes, laying a predatory gaze upon him. Let's face it, the most eligible men she knew were a possessed mage, an elf who couldn't bear being touched, a dwarf in love with his crossbow and a Chantry brother. Her prospects of getting into bed with anyone any time soon were… none. And there was no way she could afford Jethann on a regular basis. She might as well make this time count.

He jumped off the bed and hastily obeyed. She admired for a second his hardness and gave him a devilish look, satisfied with what she saw.

"Lay down on your back," she ordered, making room for him on the bed.

She straddled him and slowly impaled herself in his long, hard shaft, wanting to feel every inch of her being filled. He put his hands on her hips to aid her lift her body while she moved up and down along his length, but she pushed them way, wanting to be fully in control of her pace. Aware that he was there to pleasure her, he placed his thumb on her sensitive swollen nub, stroking it. He caressed and rubbed it, making her moan as she set a more demanding rhythm, seeking another orgasm.

Though Jethann was experienced with this sort of thing, he was having a hard time holding back his climax. She was tight, wet and unbelievably warm. Her needful pace, her body glistening with sweat and oil and her sexy groans, not to mention her creamy breasts bouncing in front of him, were throwing him over the edge. When she came, her sheath clenching around him, her juices running down his shaft and her nails digging into his chest and stomach, he couldn't take it anymore. He moved hastily to pull out of her, so he wouldn't spill his seed within her.

Panting and feeling like her body was about to melt down, she crumbled beside him in bed.

It took him a couple minutes to calm his breathing and feel his legs steady enough to stand. He slipped through a backdoor in the room and stayed there doing who knows what for a few moments before returning to her. She was staring pensively at the ceiling and he feared she could go back to that forlorn mood she had been in when they had started their evening. Pulling her to rest her head on his chest, he stroked her hair tenderly until she dozed off.

Jethann watched that enticing woman in his arms. She was not there for the sake of a fetish, neither for debauchery. She was their most usual type of client, the sad and lonely one, except that she was way hotter and prettier than the others. He would do her for free any time. Hell, he would even pay to do a woman that sexy and beautiful. It annoyed him that she had no one else; that she had to pay to feel desired and loved and to have someone take care of her. He hoped she would never need to seek comfort there again, but if she did he would do everything in his power to make her feel as if she had everything she deserved.

Half an hour later, he woke her up gently and beckoned her to follow him to the mysterious back door. Her eyes brightened when he opened it to reveal a bathtub filled with steamy water and gave her an embrium scented soap. She had been washing herself with no more than a bucket of hot water and a rag at her uncle's house for over a year. The things she would do for a bathtub… With a content smile, she sunk up to her neck into the water. Back on his smalls, Jethann kneeled on the floor next to her and washed her hair, taking his time massaging her scalp. She felt so relaxed she almost dozed off again. It took her almost an hour to leave the bathtub, not minding the cooling water. When she finally emerged he got a fluffy towel and dried her up tenderly. She found it ironic that even though she was at a whorehouse, this was the cleanest she had felt in a long time.

She put on her clothes and he helped her buckle her armor. They hugged tenderly and she gave him a chaste kiss on the lips. Strolling lazily, she headed to the door.

"Thank you, Jethann," she said, beaming.

Already out of the room, she looked back at him standing by the door, watching her go with a satisfied grin on his face. She tossed him an extra sovereign which he grabbed in the air happily and made some suggestive moves with his arms and hips. Hawke chuckled and turned on her heels, pleased. Probably she would have to take a few more jobs to substitute all that coin that was meant for the expedition but she had spent with Jethann. Though he was the most expensive whore in the Blooming Rose, in the end, she thought it had been money well spent.


	12. Any Time at All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke goes on a date and realizes she's got a friend.

"Marian, you're never home anymore. Oh, Maker, there's a man! You have been sleeping at his house, haven't you? What are people going to say?" Leandra pestered her elder daughter.

" _People_ aren't going to say anything, mother, because we're nobody. Fereldans are scum in this city. And Gamlen's house is not home, but I have been working my ass off to give you a real home. That's why I'm never here. Don't wait up. I have no idea when I'll be coming back," Hawke replied, leaving the house with Garrus in tow.

She walked to the Hanged Man to meet her companions for breakfast feeling relaxed and content, not letting her mother's nagging spoil her good mood. She wouldn't allow Jethann's expensive work to making her feel better go to waste for just anything.

The minute she set foot in the tavern, they all stared at her. Isabela, Varric and Merrill were giggling, elbowing each other and whispering. _Ok,_ she thought, _I can live with that._ Aveline and Anders were scowling. _Now, that I don't need._

"We have a lot to do on the Wounded Coast, so we'd better be ready to camp for the night, in case we don't wrap it all up during daylight." She decided to get down to business, not minding that her companions had gossiped about her taking a whore, but impatient at the two of them that were being judgmental. "Anders, from the look on your face I can tell you're feeling ill. Is it something you ate? Perhaps you should stay here," she said sarcastically. "And you, Aveli –"

"Hawke, not now," the guardswoman interrupted. "The Viscount's son has been kidnapped by the Qunari and Seneschal Bran sent mercenaries to rescue him. This could go all kinds of wrong. We need to find him first and I know he's somewhere on the Wounded Coast."

"Fine, Aveline," the rogue conceded.

"Are you mad? You can't go there without a healer!" Anders protested.

"I'll take Bethany," she answered.

"She might know one or two healing spells, but she's not a healer, Hawke. Maker's breath, you almost died just yesterday!" he made his point.

"Fine! We'll all go."

"Yay!" Isabela cheered. "This is going to be so much fun!"

"Go pack, everyone. We leave in half an hour. I'll go get Fenris," Hawke said heading to the door.

* * *

The cool ocean breeze was making the sunny day on the coast most pleasing. They had already retrieved the Grey Warden's letters and helped a former werewolf and, even though they hadn't yet done any of the things they had gone there to do, when they reached a spot with an especially nice view of the ocean, Hawke decided they could take a break for a cold lunch.

"Elegant invited me for an evening out tomorrow with her husband and her. And I'm supposed to bring someone," she told Isabela, but all of them were paying attention. Fenris and Anders exchanged quick awkward glances.

"Hmm… and who would that be?" the pirate asked, cocking an eyebrow.

_Let's see, there's the elf who won't touch me and the possessed mage who threw me out of his bed. Tough choice!_ "Garrus, maybe?" she replied, frustrated.

The dog barked happily.

"That is just sad, sweet thing," Isabela said. "Don't worry, I'll find you someone."

"I'll go with you, Hawke."

All eyes roamed, looking for the person who had made that offer. Varric. "Since Broody here is… well, brooding," the dwarf started.

It surprised Fenris that the dwarf had mentioned him as someone who could accompany Hawke in that way. She certainly wouldn't want to go out with an escaped slave and an elf. Yet she had been at his mansion many times those past days, calling him to their meetings at the Hanged Man and taking him with her on these jobs around town. Maybe… should he offer to go with her?

"And you went to the Rose one day after sleeping at Blondie's, so I'll take a wild guess and say things didn't exactly work out between you two," Varric continued, ignoring Anders' scowl.

_She spent the night with the abomination? And she went to the Rose?_ Fenris felt disgusted. Why would she need something like that? She made too many foolish choices. He would have to keep an eye on her.

"Just don't tell Bianca. She's the jealous type," the dwarf finished.

"Then it's a date! Thank you, Varric," Hawke smiled.

"That was easy! It's the chest hair, isn't it? I can't resist it either…" Isabela gave Varric a cheeky look.

"Rivaini, stop looking at my chest. My eyes are up here. Do you know how much I suffer under your gaze? I'm a person, not an object!"

"Uh, Varric?"

"Just shitting you," he chuckled.

* * *

Anders' mood improved considerably when Hawke decided to send Feynriel to the Dalish rather than the Circle. Varric and Merrill left immediately with the boy to Sundermount to offer him protection along the way and make sure he would be accepted by the Keeper.

In spite of being two people short, Hawke and her companions didn't have too much trouble wiping out the Tal-Vashoth for Javaris. The whole day seemed to be going pretty fine and all they had left to do was find Seamus. Perhaps, they wouldn't even need to camp there, though Hawke was looking forward to it. The weather was great, the view by the ocean was beautiful, no one would need to be awake at night keeping watch, because her mabari was there, and sharing a tent wasn't as bad as she had thought it would be. Also, almost everyone was in a great disposition. The exception being Fenris.

It annoyed the elf deeply how Hawke shouted to them to protect Anders every time they engaged in combat and how everyone would run to the mage after each fight to be healed, even if they had suffered no more than a few scratches.

Anders was carefully keeping Fenris out of Heroic Aura and the elf had not even once gone to the mage for healing. To avoid another pointless argument with him, Hawke gave him a few injuries kits and health potions, hoping he would get through all the fighting without the need for healing. However, if Fenris ever got seriously injured she would not hesitate in forcing magic upon him. She wouldn't let anyone die under her leadership.

When they finally found Seamus, the Winters had gotten to him first. Hawke and her companions defeated the mercenaries but the boy warned them that much more were supposed to be on their way there. The rogue quickly formulated a strategy, positioning Fenris and Aveline on a choking point, Anders behind them and Garrus protecting Seamus on the far end of the clearing. Isabela and Hawke would be ahead of the warriors, hidden behind bushes on the path that led to the clearing, waiting to backstab the enemies who got past them.

The plan worked out fine and, after all foes had been felled, they gathered in the middle of the clearing for healing. Anders needed some time, though. He had run out of lyrium potions and his mana was completely drained. It had been a busy day and they had been in a larger number than usual. Keeping protective spells around all these people was exhausting.

They sat down there to let him rest and Isabela started unpacking some provisions for them to have a snack. They were starting to get comfortable when the mabari and the elf suddenly turned their heads to the path that led there and got on their feet. Arrows flew towards them and Aveline hastily jumped over Seamus, covering him with her shield. A large group of Winters closed in on them. Hawke and her companions were used to fighting while outnumbered and still easily won, but this time they were tired, without the aid of spells and they had been caught by surprise. The rogue cursed herself for her stupid mistake. She had assumed there wouldn't be a third group of enemies and remained on the same place where they had just been attacked. Her recklessness had put their lives in danger.

"Anders!" Isabela cried.

The apostate was down on one knee, panting, his hands applying pressure to a wound on his side that was bleeding badly. The mercenary who had hit him was dead, with the sharp end of Ander's staff through his chest. Another foe was closing in on him, though, his sword ready to connect a killing blow. Hawke wouldn't allow anyone else to die following her. She couldn't.

She launched herself at the mage, her body landing where his was, as she knocked him out of the way of the enemy blade. With eyes screwed shut she waited for the split second that would take for the blow to hit her. But it never came. She opened her eyes one at a time to see the foe drop the sword to his side, gasping blood, as Fenris' hand came out of his chest with his still beating heart clenched in his fist and tossed it aside. The elf didn't even wipe out the mercenary's blood from his hand before grabbing Hawke by the collar. He dragged her along the clearing while she scrambled on her feet, trying to stand, and pushed her against a rock wall, pinning her with his free arm. His face was so close to hers she could feel his breathing warm against her skin.

"Are you out of your mind, woman? You would give your life for this abomination?" he spat, looking down into her eyes.

She could say that she would have done the same for any of them, but they might ask her why and she wasn't ready to share the story of how she was to blame for the death of the two men she loved the most.

There was rage in his eyes and in his tone, but Hawke didn't fear him. She felt sad and frustrated at this endless guilt consuming her. He noticed the pain in her eyes and let her go, cursing in Arcanum.

The battle was over and they had won.

"Does Anders know you are _madly_ in love with him?" the pirate asked in a saucy tone.

"Or maybe she's just mad," Aveline remarked.

"Please, see if he is okay," Hawke said, crumbling on the dirt. Yes, she was mad. Arthur and Carver's deaths had made her mad. So mad she would have given her life for a man she knew for less than two weeks, just because she couldn't live with any more guilt.

Anders was still bleeding and had lost consciousness. More Winters could show up any minute. They couldn't stay there.

Fenris couldn't believe his ears when Hawke asked him to carry the apostate to some place safer, where they could take better care of him. His markings flared and the look on his face was probably his angriest one to date. As he threw the abomination over his shoulder and walked out of the clearing, everyone let out the breaths they hadn't even noticed they were holding.

The elf paced furiously while the women undressed the mage and patched him up with injury kits. Seamus was quiet the whole time, completely out of his element among this tense, weird group of people.

Anders finally came to and Hawke gave him a health potion and something to eat. They all waited in awkward silence until his mana had recovered enough for him to cast a healing spell upon himself. Though the sun had already set, it wasn't too late, so they headed back to Kirkwall. No one was feeling in the mood to camp on the beach anymore.

The next morning Hawke gave Anders a much needed break, dismissed Isabela and Merrill, because they wanted to visit a hat shop in Lowtown and asked Aveline to collect payment on the jobs they had fulfilled. Again, Fenris had not shown up at breakfast. Since she was going with Bethany, Varric and Garrus to hunt down some blood mages that had kidnapped a templar recruit, she decided to stop by his mansion and ask him to come along. No doubt this mission would be the perfect opportunity for her to get in his good graces.

The previous day, when they had arrived in Kirkwall, he had gone straight home without even saying goodbye. So, this morning, she went to his mansion with a speech prepared to convince him to join her one more time, to give her another chance. He opened the door before she could knock, already on his armor and with his sword sheathed, nodded to her companions and took his place behind her. She stood there with her mouth open for few seconds, so surprised she was by his behavior. Not wanting to push her luck, she didn't say anything, just gave him a smile and led them to the hideout in Darktown.

Things started to fall apart quickly when Tarohne – the leader of the blood mages – summoned a desire demon. Hawke had never seen such a creature before and didn't know what they were capable of. She heard the demon whispering and suddenly she was frozen in place.

_Bethany was pinning tiny daisies on Hawke's carefully braided raven black hair._

_"You are so pretty! Look!" the girl smiled excitedly and pulled her sister closer to the mirror._

_Hawke beamed at the sight of the white silk dress she was wearing. A red sash was cinching the waistline, adding color and vibrancy to the simple wedding gown._

"Hawke!"

_She heard someone calling but it seemed so far away..._

_"It's time to go, Marian," Leandra said, smiling proudly at her daughter._

_Carver was waiting for her outside. "Sister, you look beautiful," he remarked and took her hand, leading her to the Chantry._

"Hawke!"

_She turned her head but saw no one, so she continued walking beside Carver, her mother and sister behind them._

_Bells were ringing at Lothering's Chantry. From the door where she was standing with her brother she could see Arthur in the far end of the aisle, by the altar. His green eyes widened and he smiled brightly when he saw her._

"Hawke! What's going on? We need help here!"

_Someone kept calling her. There was something wrong. Her gaze drifted through the familiar faces watching her at the Chantry – Leliana, Barlin, Danal, Elder Miriam, Chanter Devons, desire demon… Huh? Oh!_

_"Don't you want that life back? The life you dreamed of, the life you were supposed to have?" the creature whispered inside her head._

_The Chantry walls crumbled and people started vanishing around her. She looked at Arthur one last time before pushing him out of her head as she advanced towards the demon, silk dress turning into leather armor and daggers in her hands._

"Get ouf ot my head!" Hawke shouted at the demon.

Varric hit an arrow on the creature's back, making her bend forward. When she came back up, one of Hawke's blades were buried in her stomach. The demon squirmed and her long nails scratched Hawke across the face. Furious, the rogue disappeared and turned up behind the creature, stabbing her repeatedly until she lay dead on the floor.

Hawke helped Bethany and Varric finish off the remaining shades and skeletons, while Fenris enthusiastically ripped off the hearts of the blood mages.

When Tarohne died, the spell that was keeping Keran imprisoned ended. Hawke was amused to notice how her sister was ogling the cute, shirtless templar recruit.

Despite Fenris' protests, Hawke went with her instincts and told the Knight-Captain the boy was free of demons and could return to the Order. Both templars were really grateful for her help. However, her plan of using this mission to befriend the elf had failed miserably. On the other hand, even though he wouldn't stop arguing with her mage companions and was always questioning her decisions, every time she looked for him he was there at his mansion waiting for her and ready to follow her lead. Perhaps he had just agreed to disagree and she would do the same.

Once they had left the Gallows and there were no more templars within sight, Bethany healed them and they made way to a foundry in Lowtown. They were hoping to find clues on Ninette and other missing women for Ser Emeric. They got a glimpse of a mage, who fled the place leaving them to fight shades, abominations and another desire demon. This time Hawke knew better than to come close to the creature. She signaled to her sister to freeze the demon and then Hawke and Fenris hit her with their blades until she lay shattered on the floor.

With the rewards she got from Ghyslain and Emeric, Hawke finally had the fifty sovereigns for partnership in the expedition. Now she just had to get some extra coin for new armor and weapons and they could leave for the Deep Roads.

It was almost time for her evening out with Varric, Elegant and her husband so Hawke sent Fenris home and went to Gamlen's to get ready.

* * *

The elf did not go to his mansion, though. He knew Hawke would go out that night and she would probably be without weapons and armor. Her recklessness was always putting her in danger. He decided to follow her from the rooftops to make sure she would be fine.

It didn't take long for her to get ready and he watched open-mouthed as she left the house in a knee-length dark red dress that wrapped around the waist, emphasizing all the curves on her shapely body. Varric was waiting for her outside and made some joke about how lucky he was that Bianca couldn't see Hawke or he would be in trouble with his lady. Fenris shook his head and concentrated on the task of following them without being seen.

They went to Hightown and met the other couple in a place called Orlesian Garden, which everybody knew it was very expensive. Though Varric and Hawke wanted to celebrate getting the money for the expedition, they couldn't afford doing it there. They ordered a glass of wine each and made it last the whole evening, sipping it slowly.

"I bet a sovereign that Broody is still out there waiting for us to leave," Varric said before stepping out on the street.

"I'm not taking that bet. I know he is," Hawke smirked.

Just as the two rogues were arriving at the Hanged Man so they could finally drink to their achievement while spending much less coin, Meeran approached them.

"There you are. I don't let anyone who crossed me get this big in this town," he said and Red Iron mercenaries started to come out of every corner.

The last time Meeran had asked Hawke to clean up a mess one of his mercenaries had made out of a job, she didn't carry on the deed, though she had told him she would. In the past, she had fulfilled her assignments without asking questions, but her year of servitude had just finished. She would not follow orders blindly anymore. It turned out that the mark had supported Ferelden during the Blight, so she spared him, but she knew this would come back to bite her in the ass someday.

Fenris wanted to scold her even more than he wanted to kill the people threatening her. He was about to jump off the roof when the sight of her lifting her skirt paralyzed him for a couple of seconds. Two knives were strapped to her thighs. She got them and went for Meeran, while Varric got about a dozen throw-knives from the many pockets in his coat and tossed them swiftly at the incoming thugs, hitting eyes and necks, his aim as good as it was with his crossbow.

The rogues wiped out the mercenaries in the blink of an eye. When Fenris hit the ground, there was no one else to kill.

"You still don't give me much credit, do you?" Hawke asked him, raising an eyebrow.

"I-I'm sorry," he said.

"I'm kidding! I'm actually very flattered that you find me worth of so much of your time, since you've been watching me from rooftops like a frigging gargoyle the whole night."

Fenris blushed and looked down, trying to hide his embarrassment.

"Come on, Broody. Let me buy you a beer," the dwarf chuckled and pushed open the door to the Hanged Man.

At first the elf was complaining nonstop about the smell, the people, the quality of the ale, the noise. The rogues didn't want him to spoil their celebration, so they decided to teach him how to play Diamondback and Wicked Grace hoping that he would shut up at least while learning the rules. With his attention diverted to the cards and to catching his two cheating opponents, Fenris finally stopped brooding and started having some fun. To make sure his mood wouldn't go back to its usual bitterness, Hawke slipped Norah a silver and asked her to always keep a full tankard in front of the elf.

They had already drained a few beers and were playing Wicked Grace in Varric's room. Fenris had taken his gauntlets off because they were ruining the cards. Isabela appeared at the door, waved at them and went to her room with a man behind her. Taking advantage of the distraction provided by the pirate, Hawke tried to steal the Angel of Death from the deck. The elf noticed she was cheating and grabbed her hand to stop her. She was so surprised he was actually touching her that she dropped her cards. Realizing what he had done, he immediately let go of her hand. Varric watched them quietly, curious to see what was going to happen next.

Hawke reached for his hands, but he pulled them to his lap, leaving his cards on the table.

"Why are you so afraid to touch me?" she asked.

"It's not you. I told you about my markings."

"You didn't seem to be in any pain."

"I-I wasn't," he stuttered.

"So what are you afraid of?" she insisted.

"Why do you want to touch me?" his voice was low and husky.

"Why wouldn't I? You are an amazing man, Fenris. You are handsome and smart and a great warrior. You always speak your mind when you don't agree with me. You know I won't listen, but you keep warning me about the dangers of magic and that's because you are trying to take care of me. Isn't that what you were doing when you followed me tonight?"

"You say what's on your mind, I'll give you that." His eyes dropped to his lap. He couldn't find the words to meet her naked honesty.

"Look at me, Fenris."

He raised his eyes reluctantly. "I should go," he said getting up.

_Frustrating man._ Taking a deep breath, she stood abruptly, making her chair tip over, and stomped around the table to stand in front of him. "You can't give me this and then take it back," her tone was harsh. "Touch me!" She took another step, getting so close he could feel the warmth of her body.

His mouth went dry, his heart was racing. He wasn't ready for this. If he took a step back, he would look like a coward. His eyes drifted around the room, trying to find another way out.

"Don't look at me, elf. I won't leave so you two lovebirds can get down to business on my bed. Go find your own room," the dwarf joked, trying to release some of the tension.

"Don't worry, Varric. The only place someone is willing to be with me like that is at the Rose, and that's because I'm paying." She turned on her heels, but Fenris' bruising grasp on her wrist pulled her back.

"No!" he yelled. "You will not go there, Hawke."

She tried to free herself from his grasp, but he wouldn't let her. Well, at least he was touching her again.

What could he do to keep her from going to that disgusting place? Kiss her, maybe? He couldn't. He was a coward.

"So?" she looked angrily at him.

Hanging his head, he let go of her. "I'm sorry," he said and left the room.

She sighed sadly and caressed the marks of his fingers on her wrist.

"Hawke, next round is on me. Sit here and let's talk," the dwarf gestured her to a chair.

"He must have gone through so much pain when he was a slave, Varric. That's why he is like this. And I forced him to touch me. He must have felt violated. How could I do this?" She sat down and drained her ale in one gulp.

"Come on, Hawke, don't be too hard on yourself. Broody likes you. He just doesn't know how to deal with that. And you like him too, but you are handling it almost as poorly as he is."

This dwarf, when had he become her friend? But that's what he was. Hawke finally had a friend and they talked and drank the night away.


	13. A Hard Day's Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke and Fenris sort things out.

Hawke was startled into awakening when Isabela pulled off her covers.

"Awww... They have their clothes on!" the pirate complained.

Looking around, Hawke tried to figure out where she was and what was going on. A dry mouth and a major headache indicated she had had too much to drink last night. She was in a bed more comfortable than her own, the dwarf was lying beside her and all her companions, except Fenris, were in the room staring at them. Was she in Varric's bed?

He sat on the edge of the bed and cleared his throat. "Don't read too much into this, people. Hawke got drunk and passed out here yesterday. I couldn't carry her home and I wasn't going to sleep on the floor. That's all. Let's go get breakfast."

"Can you do something about my hangover?" she asked Anders.

"I can. What about your wrist?

"What about my wrist?"

"It's bruised. Here, let me take care of it."

Anders healed her and she asked him, Varric and Isabela to accompany her for the day. They stopped by Gamlen's for her to change into her armor and get Garrus, and they went to meet Ser Thrask – a mage-friendly templar whom they had helped before by returning a letter from his apostate daughter to him.

Thrask was outside the Runaway's Cavern, trying to find a peaceful way to deal with the apostates hiding in there. Hawke's efforts to get them out safely without having to send them to the Gallows almost went down the drain when a group of templars led by Ser Karras arrived. She was grateful Varric was there, for he was able to convince Karras that the apostates were dead. The templars left and the mages could escape. No one had to die.

Hawke and her companions were back in Kirkwall by lunchtime. She asked them to meet her in the Bone Pit in two hours and went with Garrus to Hightown. Though she didn't remember exactly all that had happened the night before, she knew she had treated Fenris badly and wanted to make it up to him.

"Would you like to join me for lunch? I'm paying," she said with a faint smile, when he opened the door.

He agreed and they headed to the market. He didn't like going there because it was always crowded and he drew too much attention. This time, he tried to ignore the passers-by staring at him, for he enjoyed being around Hawke and didn't want to push her away, especially after how he had treated her the past night. He too wanted to make it up to her.

From his impassive face Hawke couldn't figure out how he was feeling about her. She ordered a bowl of gruel for her, one for Garrus and two for him from a food stand and they sat on a bench to eat, while the dog feasted noisily at their feet.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you," he uttered, his gaze on the bowl of gruel.

"You didn't."

"Let me see it."

She pulled up her sleeve. "Here, I'm fine," she said lifting her arm and rotating her wrist in front of him.

"The abomination healed you, didn't he?" Fenris felt angry at himself for making her go after the mage.

"Fenris, listen, I'm the one who has to apologize. I forced myself upon you yesterday. I was selfish and didn't respect your pain or your wishes. Please, forgive me. It won't happen again."

_It won't happen again._ These words made him uneasy. That was not what he wanted. She was helping him in more ways than she realized. For the first time since he escaped Danarius he had something to do that was not running and hiding and he had someone he could count on, a beautiful woman with a challenging personality, who treated him like a man and never looked down on him. Yet, he was pushing her away.

"Fenris, you didn't say anything. Can't you forgive me?" she insisted.

"There's nothing to forgive, Hawke," he replied.

While wolfing down his second bowl of gruel, Fenris wondered what it would be like kissing her, feeling her skin bare against his… But no matter how much he wanted it, he was not ready. He had never been with someone by choice. All his experiences in this area had been either with Danarius or Hadriana and always full of pain and shame. Could he ever overcome the memories of the things they forced him to do and have a normal life with a woman?

Trying to shake off the horrible images of his years in slavery from his mind, Fenris piled up his and Garrus' empty bowls and reached to get Hawke's. To avoid an accidental brush of her fingers on his, she pulled her hand off it so quickly, it fell on the ground before he could even touch it. He cursed himself for causing this change in her behavior. She had treated him like a man from the start, but he had acted like a beast every time she had come closer to him, making her think that was how he wanted to be treated, like a wild animal that might attack anyone that comes near it. It was all his fault and he had to do something about it.

He returned the bowls to the vendor, wiped his hands nervously on his breeches and offered Hawke a hand to help her stand. She looked at it and raised her eyebrows. _Haha, nice trick! I'll take his hand and he'll call me a liar and rip my heart out. No, thank you._ Dodging his hand, she got up by herself. He would have to do better than that.

"I have to go. Thank you for your company. If you ever need me, I'm always at Hanged Man in the morning. Probably in the evening too. And during lunch. I guess it won't be hard to find me," she shrugged, smiled and turned on her heels.

"I'm coming with you," he said.

"You don't even know where I'm going," she turned her head to look at him.

Hawke was always honest with him and everybody else, always saying what was on her mind. Maybe he could start making it up to her by being honest too. She certainly valued that.

"You are going to recklessly endanger your life, either hunting down mercenaries while outnumbered or helping some dangerous apostate run free. I may not approve of your methods and I certainly don't agree with your decisions, but I… I enjoy following you."

His deep, husky voice saying those last words made her shiver and she even forgot he had started the sentence insulting her. What was the deal with this elf? Did he despise her or not? She couldn't quite figure him out.

"All right. Let's go, then," she said.

On their way to the Bone Pit, Fenris kept thinking about what he should do. He didn't want to take any steps back. He wanted to touch her again, to get used to it. After acting so poorly and scaring her off every time she tried to get closer, the next move had to be his. From the next day on, he would start going to her morning meetings at the Hanged Man and perhaps he would even invite her over to his mansion, to drink a bottle of wine and talk. He had told her a lot about himself, but he knew next to nothing about her.

Once inside the mine, Hawke and her companions found out that dragons had attacked and killed many of Hubert's workers. One of the survivors pointed them in the direction of a dragon's nest on a ledge just outside the far end of the mine. Isabela poked some eggs with her dagger until she broke one and in a matter of seconds a mature dragon was upon them.

"Varric, aim for the eyes. Garrus, this time I want you to keep your distance, boy. Fenris, the scales are softer underneath it. Isabela, let's rip its wings. Anders, keep us alive," Hawke shouted the orders at them.

As the mage moved his hands protective telekinetic barriers enveloped them and a glyph of paralysis held the dragon in place. It wouldn't last long, but at least would buy them a few seconds to try and take the upper hand in the battle. With the creature still, Varric easily hit its eyes, blinding it. Fenris had his sword half-buried to the dragon's chest when it regained movement and knocked him out with its claw. Anders didn't hesitate to cast a healing spell over the elf. They could take no chances against such a foe. The beast tried to flee, but Hawke and Isabela were pinned to a wing each, tearing the soft skin next to the bone with their daggers and keeping it from flying out of reach.

Shaking violently, the dragon threw the women away. They both fell on their feet and ran back towards it. They stabbed it repeatedly, but their daggers didn't reach deep enough to kill it. Varric's arrows also couldn't do more than scratches. It had to be Fenris' blade to finish it. The elf was back on his feet, though unarmed. His sword was still half-buried in the creature. Anders froze the dragon, giving the elf a chance to approach it. When he grabbed the hilt, he had to pull the blade off and evade because the monster was moving again, spitting fire in all directions.

Isabela was hit by a powerful swing of its tail and almost rolled off the ledge. At the last second she managed to grab on the edge. Varric ran to pull her up, but the dragon hit him with its claw, sending him flying in the opposite direction. He landed on the ground, knocked out. Anders casted a healing spell and the dwarf began to slowly come to.

Fenris was running around the dragon, trying to find an opening to connect a killing blow, but the beast wasn't giving any chance for him to get closer. The mage drank a lyrium potion, hit the dragon with lightning and froze it again. During the couple of seconds the creature stayed still, Hawke helped Isabela get back on the ledge while Fenris darted towards their foe. The instant it retrieved its movements, the warrior's sword ran across its neck, separating it from the body, which spasmed a few times, spraying blood everywhere.

Varric was already on his feet. As they all curiously approached the two pieces of the corpse of their toughest opponent to date, Hawke started laughing and the pirate and the dwarf immediately joined her. Anders tried to hold back, but their chuckles were infectious and he burst into laughter too.

"What's so funny?" Fenris asked, scowling.

Hawke wondered how he could not be excited about slaying a big fucking dragon and coming out of it in one piece.

"Come on, look at the size of this thing," Varric said, taking a breath.

"Dibs on the fangs!" Isabela called, cheerfully. "I want to make a necklace."

"I'm going to need one for Solivitus. You can have the other," Hawke negotiated.

She noticed Fenris' scowl wasn't getting any better and she had a guess on what his problem might be. "Listen, I know you didn't want any spells being cast upon you, but you might have died if it weren't for Anders. I drag us to many life-threatening situations and I don't want anyone dying on me, understand? While in my team, you'll have to accept magic. Can you do that or are we done?"

His face was back to its usual impassiveness and Hawke didn't know what he would do. If she could bet on it, her money would be in him leaving, since he seemed to love a dramatic exit. Storming out of places was definitely his signature move. _What a frustrating man!_

Fenris didn't have to think about it to make this decision, though. He wanted to be part of her team, to follow her around, to keep her safe, to drink with her, to touch her… The only thing keeping him from saying he accepted her terms was the abomination's presence. He didn't want to give the apostate the satisfaction of seeing him cave to magic.

"Can you come to my mansion tonight so we can talk about this in private?" he asked with an indecipherable expression on his face.

"Sure, Fenris. Whatever," she sighed wearily.

"Nice move, Broody! Very smooth!" Varric joked.

While Anders finished healing Isabela and Varric's cuts and burns and Hawke looted the dragon, Fenris went back to Kirkwall alone, rehearsing in his head the things he planned on telling her in the evening.

"Hawke, you're bleeding. Come here," the mage said, worried.

The dragon had connected a claw to her arm during the fight, ruining the left sleeve of her armor and tearing the skin underneath it. The damage had not been too bad, though, thanks to the defensive barrier Anders had kept around her.

"You know, I wouldn't mind having a scar from the day we slayed a fully-grown dragon. Just stop the bleeding and make sure it won't get infected," Hawke said.

Varric gave her an amused look.

"Are you insane? I'm healing it," Anders stated.

"Come on, Blondie. Let the girl have her souvenir," the dwarf chimed in.

"You're just saying that because it'll be another crazy element to add in your tale," Anders retorted.

"A tale? About me? What does it say?" Hawke arched an eyebrow.

Varric cleared his throat. "It's the story of a beautiful and deadly woman who is a fierce leader, a sharp battle strategist and guts ogres as a hobby."

"Hmm, let me know when you get to the steamy bits," Isabela uttered.

"So, Anders, what's going to be?" Hawke turned impatiently to the mage.

"Fine! I'll heal it halfway and bandage it," Anders conceded. There was no point in trying to reason with this mad, willful woman.

Back in Kirkwall, Anders set off to his clinic and the rogues went to collect from Solivitus and Hubert. They ran into Merrill, who was lost near the Viscount's gardens in Hightown and she returned with them to Lowtown.

Hawke wanted to stop by Gamlen's to wash before going to see Fenris. When she was about to part ways with her companions, they heard a woman in trouble nearby. There was always coin in saving fools, so they decided to check it out.

The woman was a Chantry sister and ended up hiring them to escort a Saarebas out of town. There was something suspicious about the job, but Hawke and her friends carried it on anyway. It turned out to be a trap and a large, strong group of Qunari engaged them in a gruesome battle.

Merrill was great at offensive spells, but she didn't know the first thing about healing. When the fight was over, though victorious, they all had broken bones and deep, bleeding wounds. They patched up the best they could with injury kits and health potions and limped their way back to Kirkwall.

That damned job had taken the whole night. When they arrived at Petrice's safehouse, Hawke took the coin from her and left the place fuming. The sun was already rising. She had missed her date with Fenris, she was dirty, exhausted, in pain and her armor had been completely ruined.

Varric reminded the others that Anders would soon be at Hanged Man for breaksfast and they could get some healing without having to walk all the way to Darktown in that poor state they were. It was a good idea and they all went up to the dwarf's bedroom where they instantly crashed, Isabela and Merrill on Varric's bed, Hawke and Garrus on the rug and the dwarf on an armchair.

* * *

"Hawke? Hawke? Are you all right?" Fenris was shaking her awake, hands carefully placed where her armor was still intact.

She blinked a few times, acknowledging her surroundings. "What time is it?"

He took his hands off her and sat on the floor. "About eight in the morning. Are you all right? All this blood…"

"Relax. It's not _all_ mine," she explained.

"What happened? I waited for you last night," he said, his face and voice showing no emotion whatsoever. Inwardly, he was cursing himself for leaving her at the Bone Pit, for not staying at her side until the day was over. Obviously, she had gone on another job that hadn't turned out so well.

She started stretching. "We got crossed – owww!" she screamed in pain, awakening the others, as a couple of broken ribs protested against her body moving.

Fenris scanned the room, looking for the abomination. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. What was he doing? That woman would be the death of him! He hated so much seeing her hurt and in pain and not being able to do anything about it, he even wanted that blasted mage to be there to heal her.

"I heard someone screaming," Anders stalked into the room, staff in hand. "Maker's breath, what happened here?" he said running his eyes over those four ragged, bloodied people and one dog, all slumped across the room. "Did you do this?" he asked Fenris angrily, closing the door behind him as cracks of blue light crept on his face and body.

The elf jumped on his feet, getting ready to attack.

"How about some healing first? You can kill each other later, Glow Boys," Varric intervened.

"I did not do this, mage. Heal her," Fenris growled, his markings flaring.

Anders looked at Hawke's painful expression and shredded armor and his eyes softened as he rushed to kneel beside her. He had been thinking about her a lot these days. How she was always helping apostates run free, the way she stood up for him every time the elf had turned against him, how she had risked her life to protect him that day at the Wounded coast… Maybe Justice wouldn't object to her. With an apostate father and sister, she understood the mage's plight. And, Maker's breath, she was beautiful. He found himself regretting that night he pushed her way. It was his fault that she had slept with a whore. How could he have done that to her? She deserved better.

The elf turned away when the healer started delicately removing the pieces of her armor and slowly sliding his hands all over body.

"Do you really have to grope her like that?" the elf snarled, taking a peek at what the mage was doing.

"I'm checking for broken bones," Anders answered without taking his eyes from Hawke

"I'm next!" Isabela called. "I want you to feel me up for some broken bones too," she purred.

Hawke was purposely ignoring her party's banter. Yes, Anders was groping her a little… but his warm, caring hands felt so good. After he had inspected her from head to toe, he concluded she had no other serious injuries, apart from her broken ribs. He lifted her tunic and folded it over her breasts, baring her stomach and abdomen. His hands rested over her ribcage and the magic began to flow. The bruises on her skin vanished and she felt a warm and tingling sensation inside her as the pain faded. His fingers lingered there a little, caressing her where the wound had been.

She bit her lower lip, holding back a moan. Damn, she was enjoying this way too much. She looked at him and he gave her that sweet smile of his with a hint of mischief in his eyes. Of course he had noticed the effect he was having on her.

"Do you really have to do this, mage? Can't you just throw a spell that covers all her body and avoid this fondling? I know you are taking advantage of her," Fenris snapped.

"Healing spells work much better when applied directly over the wounds," the apostate replied.

"Hey, I could use some fondling, I mean, healing over here too, Anders," Isabela said.

There were too many people there and it was getting awkward, so Hawke grabbed Anders' hands and moved them away from her as she got up. "Thank you so much. I need to wash and rest, so I'll leave. Please, take care of the others and send Garrus to my uncle's after you heal him too."

The mage stood up and gave her a slightly disappointed nod.

_I don't understand. A few days ago he threw me out of his bed. Now he's all hands. Maybe I grew on him. Or he's just toying with me. He and the elf would be perfect for each other. Couple of frustrating men!_

"Let's take the day off. I'll see you tomorrow at breakfast," she spoke, gathering the scraps of her armor and leaving the room.

Fenris followed her. "Hawke," he called, when she was about to enter Gamlen's house.

She looked at him over her shoulder and sighed tiredly.

"I can do it," he stated.

"Do what?" She just wanted to get in and sleep. These men were driving her crazy.

"Accept… magic. I want to be part of your team."

"See you tomorrow," she smiled at him and got inside the house.


	14. Getting Better (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke is attacked. Luckily a certain someone is there to save her.

The next morning Hawke met all her companions, Fenris included, at the Hanged Man. She announced Bartrand had accepted her as a partner in the expedition and that they would leave in three days.

"I can only take two people with me," she said and all eyes turned to her. "Anders, I know you hate the Deep Roads and you have the clinic, but you are a Grey Warden and a healer. I– "

"I'll go with you, Hawke," he readily agreed.

"Thank you. Maybe Bethany could spend the next days in the clinic with you. You could teach her more about healing and she'll take care of the place while you are out," she suggested. Her mother and sister had already discussed the expedition with her and they had decided Bethany would not go. The Deep Roads were no picnic. If something happened to Hawke down there, at least Leandra would still have her younger daughter.

"It's a good idea," Anders smiled. "Who else is going?"

He rolled his eyes when Hawke turned to Fenris.

The elf noticed how unusually unsure Hawke looked and sounded when she asked him if he would go. It was his fault she still didn't know if she could count on him. To show her he really meant to be part of her band, he accepted without hesitation, his eyes locked with hers.

"You're a partner too, Varric. Aren't you taking anyone?" Aveline asked.

"No. Bartrand has hired too many people already. In my oxcart it is only going to be me and as many barrels of ale I can fit in there," the dwarf replied.

"What about Garrus?" the guardswoman asked Hawke.

"He'll stay. I don't think all these weeks underground would be good for him," Hawke answered.

"May I take him to the barracks while you're out, then? He could help train my guards."

"Of course. He could use the exercise," Hawke agreed.

"Good. I think it's time they faced down a good old mabari charge." Aveline turned to the dog. "How about it, boy? Want to chew on some recruits?"

Garrus barked happily, wagging his tail.

"So it's settled," Hawke said getting up.

She left for the market with her mabari, Varric and Fenris, to buy provisions and everything else they might need for the expedition while Anders went to get Bethany so they could start practicing. Isabela and Merrill stayed behind to plan a farewell party for their companions that would be leaving at the Hanged Man and Aveline went to wrap up their business in the city before they set off to the Deep Roads; mostly giving trinkets and other stuff Hawke had found during her quests around Kirkwall back to the rightful owners.

* * *

Varric, Hawke and Fenris spent the whole day at the market. After they had finally gotten everything they needed and were ready to head back home, Hawke let out a tired sigh. "I just wish I could take a real bath before we leave on this expedition."

Fenris had a bathtub in his mansion. If he wanted to do something nice for her, to make up for all the times he had pushed her away, this was his chance. He could offer her his bathtub and they could also take the opportunity to share a bottle of wine and talk. Maybe he would hold her hand and show her he was fine with that or at least that he was trying to be. But then she would be naked, taking a bath in his house. Maker, could he handle that?

"You can order a bath in my suite at the Hanged Man whenever you want to, Hawke," Varric offered.

"Thank you, Varric. I'll do that," she replied, smiling.

Fenris muttered a curse under his breath. While he was over-thinking the issue, the dwarf was acting on it, always there for Hawke when she needed him.

"See you tomorrow," she said, waving goodbye to the elf and taking the stairs to Lowtown with Varric.

* * *

The next morning, Varric smirked when he noticed Fenris struggling to keep his usual stoic face at the sight of Hawke entering the Hanged Man wearing the new armor she had gotten from Olaf the day before. The elf hadn't thought she could possibly be any more distracting, but there she was wearing a leather skirt that wouldn't leave much to the imagination considering the way she moved during a fight.

Fenris cleared his throat. "I see your new armor fits you well."

"It's much better than your old one,"Anders remarked.

"They mean you look hot and wish you would never wear those manly breeches of yours again," Isabela said, making both men blush.

Hawke shook her head and pulled a chair to sit next to Anders. Fenris was instantly pissed when he noticed the mage running a finger on a small scar right above her knee. She had been sitting there for no longer than a second and that abomination already had his hands on her.

"Where did you get this?" the mage asked.

"At Ostagar," she answered drily and shifted on her chair, moving her leg away from his touch. _Damn it,_ she thought, _now they'll start questioning me._ "You all know how great that went. If you want any gruesome details, I'm sure Aveline can fill you in," Hawke said and left the table pretending she wanted to get something from Corff.

"It's not easy to talk about Ostagar. Much more than a battle was lost that day," the guardswoman uttered, somehow justifying Hawke running away from the subject. "Everyone knows about the betrayal – the signal went up but the flanking charge never came. What really crushed our spirits was that moment when the tower lit and then… the fight just kept going. It was the oddest feeling. Hope answered with… nothing," she spoke.

Those words and Aveline's grave tone got everyone thinking silently for a brief moment.

Anders remembered when he was with the Hero of Ferelden fighting the darkspawn invasion in Amaranthine and they got word about the attack at Vigil's Keep. She abandoned the city to save the Keep. It was not a betrayal, but a choice. One so tough he thanked the Maker he was not the person having to make it. How must the villagers have felt to see the ones who were fighting for them suddenly give orders to burn down the city and turn on their heels and leave?

Fenris stared pensively at Hawke for a moment and wondered. He didn't remember ever having a home or anything that he could lose and he didn't know what it was like to love your country and fight for it. What were the feelings of a soldier losing a battle to save his homeland? That experience had surely had its toll on Hawke and was part of the person she was today. He hated that he couldn't understand or relate to any of that.

Varric knew Hawke had lost her fiancé at Ostagar. Bethany had told him, though the girl didn't know the circumstances of his death, since her older sister had never talked about it. No one else seemed to know anything about that matter and the dwarf decided not to mention it, at least not until Hawke herself felt ready to talk about it. Or maybe he would just get her drunk someday and make her talk. She had to make peace with her past if she wanted to have a future.

Hawke came back to the table with a tankard of ale. Her companions wouldn't miss the opportunity to make some snide comments about her drinking that early in the morning and they would surely drop the conversation about Ostagar. Varric saw right through her little scheme but played along, calling everyone's attention to the drink in her hand.

* * *

The next day Hawke went to the Hanged Man a few hours before the farewell party Isabela and Merrill had organized so that she could take the bath Varric had offered her. The dwarf had some errands to run in Hightown and assured her he wouldn't be back until the evening, giving her all the time and privacy she might need.

It didn't take her that long though, and one hour later she was opening the door to leave the room smelling like jasmines, hair still wet and wearing the only dress she had, the one she had used the night Elegant had invited her out.

One step out of the room and someone tried to pommel her. She ducked, but before she could grab the knives strapped to her thighs two strong men seized her arms and a third one came behind her and, with a firm grasp on her hair, tilted her head back.

"Magistrate Vanard sends his regards," he hissed in her ear and then pommelled her in the back of her head. Before everything went black, she caught a glimpse of a blond man peeking at the scene from a slightly opened door across the hall.

Vanard's thugs dragged her to an empty room next door to Varric's and threw her on the floor. When she came to with a kick in the gut, her arms were tied behind her back, she was gagged and lying on her side. There were six, maybe seven men around her in the room. A throbbing pain in her head was keeping her from thinking clearly. She probably had a mild concussion.

"You'll pay for killing his boy, bitch!" one of her attackers shouted and kicked her on the stomach again, making her curl into ball on the floor.

"That's a nice piece of ass. Let's have some fun with her first," another thug said, his hands already unbuckling his belt.

_WHAT?_

All the men laughed in agreement and two of them were immediately upon her, forcing her on her back and pushing her legs apart. _This is not going to happen to me. I will not allow it,_ she told herself as she squirmed and kicked, trying to get away from them.

Suddenly the door was burst open causing a distraction that gave her just the couple of seconds she needed to clear her head and concentrate in untying herself, an easy task for her trained rogue fingers once she was fully alert. The blond man she had seen earlier had stormed into the room, a shiny longsword on one hand which he wielded with ease, and a shield emblazoned with the Grey Wardens' insignia in the other. She freed herself and got rid of the cloth stuffed in her mouth. Grabbing her knives, she got on her feet and joined the fight. Together the two of them dispatched all foes in no time.

As his eyes met hers, he lowered his blade and his expression softened.

"Where is your shining armor, oh brave knight that came to my rescue?" Hawke jested.

"For a damsel in distress I'd say you have a couple too many knives under your dress," he replied.

"Thank you for your help. I'm Hawke, by the way," she said, beaming.

"Alistair at your service, my lady," he grinned and bowed slightly.

"Haven't I seen you before? Downstairs, I think, claiming to be the Prince of Ferelden?"

"Oh, you heard that?" He looked embarrassed.

"Who didn't? But seeing you so expertly wielding these fine pieces of weaponry I almost couldn't tell you were that same…"

"Sorry ass of a drunk?" he sighed sadly.

"Yes, but I would have put it in nicer words," she said, trying to keep a smile on her face, but failing. The adrenaline had died down all that was left now was a headache and a sharp pain in her stomach.

"Come with me. I'll get you a health potion," Alistair said, noticing she was hurting.

She followed him to his room and leaned against the doorframe glancing curiously inside while he retrieved a small chest from his wardrobe and browsed it for the appropriate potion. By his bed there was a stand for his sword and shield. Inside a big trunk on the far corner of the room she wagered a heavy armor could be found. There was also a round table with a stool and some empty bottles underneath it. About a dozen unopened letters scattered over a stand by the door piqued her interest. She could read the sender's name in five of them and they were all the same – "Elissa Cousland". Wasn't that the Hero of Ferelden?

Alistair came back with a flask and she quickly downed it.

"Feel better?" he asked.

"Yes. Thank you again."

"Um, would you like to join me for a drink? And maybe tell me who those men that attacked you were?"

Hawke was utterly intrigued by that warrior. He was not just another drunk patron. Fereldan accent, really good with a sword, getting letters from the Hero of Ferelden, carrying a Grey Warden's shield, not to mention his striking resemblance with King Cailan. Alistair probably was who he claimed to be. Someone must have screwed him over royally for him to end up wasted in the cheapest tavern of the Free Marches.

"All right, but I'll go clean up first. I had just taken a bath and there's blood on me already," she said, looking at her bloodied hands and arms.

"You know, that's what happens when you cut people's throats," he remarked playfully.

"Yeah, it's too messy. I don't know why I keep doing it," she kidded.

"What about those dead bodies?" he asked.

"Ah, don't worry. I'll give Corff something extra for him to deal with them."

"You sound like someone who has a habit of leaving corpses behind for other people to clean up," he observed, his tone still playful.

"Why would you think that about me? I'm the damsel in the distress you just saved, remember?" she said sarcastically.

"Right! I know damsels like you. I've spent a whole year fighting alongside a… ah, never mind. I'll go clean up too. We'll meet downstairs in ten minutes?"

"Sure," Hawke agreed and went back to Varric's room.

When she arrived, Alistair was already on his usual table and she sat down across him.

"Nice armor," he said.

"My only dress has blood stains on it. Again," she sighed.

"You sound Fereldan. How did you end up in Kirkwall?" he asked.

"I could ask you the same question," she replied.

"I might need a tankard or two before I answer that."

"Oh, well, the same here."

"Norah!" he called.

Almost two hours had passed and Alistair and Hawke were still talking and drinking. They had gossiped about Leliana and had fun comparing Ferelden to Kirkwall. She had told him about her upcoming expedition and he had given her advice on what to expect from the Deep Roads. Their eyes had shimmered with tears when they had shared their stories about Ostagar and all they had lost that tragic day. They had talked about their many adventures and when he had told her how Flemeth had saved Elissa and him just for them to kill her later on, they had to laugh at the irony that while he and his companions were having a hard time defeating the witch, Hawke was making sure she lived.

Hawke felt so comfortable around him, it was like she knew him for ages. For the first time since his death, she had talked to someone about Arthur and having Alistair strong, warm hand reaching for hers as she spoke made it easier for her to open up, even though she had not gotten into much detail for she didn't want to risk crying her eyes out in public.

She couldn't help but to admire that brave man, who had done so much for Ferelden, who had played such an important part in the process of stopping the Blight. And now he was a drunk people looked down on or even laughed at sometimes. He didn't deserve his fate.

Alistair looked deep into her eyes and closed his hand around hers. "Hawke, I know we've just met, but – "

"Hawke!" Isabela cried, getting into the tavern with musicians, a cake and all members of Hawke's party, Bethany and Garrus included.

"I'm sorry. My companions had this farewell gathering planned and… Would you like to join us?" Hawke asked Alistair as she got up on her feet. Her friends were already settling around the largest table in the bar, which had been reserved for them.

"Oh, no, thank you. I don't want to intrude. It was really nice talking to you," he said, a hint of disappointment on his voice and a lot of it in his eyes.

"Thank you again for coming to my rescue," Hawke smiled brightly at him and left to join her companions.

* * *

"You are going to love him! He has a great cock. Huge!" the pirate remarked.

"What on Thedas are you talking about, Isabela?" Hawke asked, startled.

"Alistair, of course. You may be sitting here with us, but your eyes have not left his table," Rivaini replied.

"And you have been sleeping with him, obviously," Hawke rolled her eyes impatiently. "Damn it!"

"Hey, don't get upset. I would gladly share him with you if I were sleeping with him, but I'm not. It happened over a year ago, back in Denerim. He and the Hero of Ferelden used to be a couple and I had a threesome with them once. I asked her if I could borrow him for a few weeks, but she wouldn't let me and that was the end of it."

Before Hawke could say anything else, Varric interrupted. "Hawke, Norah said you got into a fight here earlier today. What happened?"

"A fight? Are you okay? Do you need healing?" Anders asked.

"Does it look like she needs healing, mage? You just want an excuse to grope her," Fenris chimed in.

"Not this again," Hawke muttered under her breath. "Remember Magistrate Vanard? He sent some men to beat me up, rape me and kill me. That's all," she told them, dismissively.

"Sweet Andraste, Hawke! Don't treat this like it's nothing serious. Thank the Maker they didn't get you!" the healer exclaimed.

"They did," she uttered.

"Shit, Hawke. Why didn't you say anything?" Varric looked worried.

"Maker's balls, if they put their hands on you, I swear –" Anders started.

"We should go find him," Fenris spoke, getting up on his feet.

"Hey, people, put some faith in her. She looks fine," Isabela said and turned to face Hawke. "You slaughtered them, didn't you? I bet they didn't stand a chance."

"Relax, everyone. They knocked me down and tied me up, but some guy had seen them take me and he came for me. We killed Vanard's men before they could do anything to me," she explained.

"You know I believe you, Hawke, but I can't just arrest a magistrate. Did you search the bodies? Was there any proof of his involvement?" The guardswoman sounded concerned.

"Don't worry, Aveline. It's all taken care of," Hawke calmed her.

"Are you sure? How do you know he won't send more people?" the red-haired woman questioned her.

"Who helped you?" Bethany interrupted.

"Oh, I know! It was Alistair, wasn't it? Now I see what got you interested in him in the first place," Isabela figured.

"Are you interested in that whiny drunk?" Fenris couldn't refrain himself from asking.

"What if Vanard sends more people after you?" Aveline insisted.

"I'm leaving for the Deep Roads, Aveline. He is last in my list of concerns right now. And Alistair is not a drunk, Fenris. He's a fellow Fereldan, a warrior and a Grey Warden," Hawke answered them.

"So you _are_ interested in him," Anders asserted, a look of despise on his face.

"Isabela, how about we cut the cake?" Hawke changed the subject.

The pirate agreed and started slicing it. Norah came by with a pile of plates to serve it and Hawke asked her to take a slice over to Alistair and be discreet about it. She had had enough of her companions meddling in her every business.

From his table the Warden watched intently as Hawke finished up her piece of cake and licked some frosting from her lips. She was so enticing and she wasn't even trying. When Norah came over to hand him a slice, he decided to give up on the ale for the night. Since the rogue had left his table, they had been continuously exchanging glances and smiles. No doubt she was as interested in him as he was in her and if an opportunity came along for them to be together he didn't want to miss it for being drunk.

Hawke too stopped drinking, for she was already slightly tipsy and her sporting a hangover on the expedition's first day would look very unprofessional, after all she was a partner.

The musicians were playing a cheerful song and Isabela invited Merrill to dance. Also feeling like dancing, Hawke ran her eyes through her companions' faces, looking for a partner. Fenris was brooding, Anders was pouting and Varric was busy teaching Bethany and Garrus how to play Wicked Grace.

"Don't even look at me. I don't dance," Aveline said.

Hawke wasn't giving up. "Fenris, would you li–"

"I'll dance with you, Hawke," Anders chimed in.

"I don't think she was asking you, mage," the elf spat.

"The man is supposed to ask the woman. Not the other way around. But I guess you wouldn't know that," the healer scoffed.

"What are you implying, abomination?" Fenris' markings started glowing faintly. "Do you really want to dance with her or is this just another excuse for you to feel her up?"

"Oh, get over that, will you? People who care about each other, they touch each other. They don't wince every time someone gets close. Plus, I don't see _her_ complaining.

"Don't bother, Glow Boys," Varric interrupted them. "She's not dancing with either of you."

They looked around and noticed Hawke's empty chair.

"Where is she?" Anders asked.

"Prince Drunk invited her. You two seemed more interested in each other. What did you expect?" Varric snickered.


	15. Getting Better (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke and Alistair find comfort in each other's arms.

Hawke and Alistair were dancing through their fourth song in a row. Having his strong arms around her and his muscular thigh between her legs was beginning to make her breath hitch. Her body was pressed against his hard, chiseled chest and the hardening bulge in his pants was grinding against her center. She could feel her smalls soaked with her arousal.

When the song ended, he suggested they take a break and she agreed. If they didn't stop right now, he would surely have trouble walking back to his table.

Before Hawke could reach her chair Isabela grabbed her arm and dragged her over to the counter.

"That was so hot! I'm wet just from watching you two dance." The pirate elbowed Hawke, a saucy look on her face. "Two ales over here, Corff," she shouted.

"I'm not drinking anymore."

Isabela gave her friend a shocked look, as if Hawke had just said something horribly offensive, so the Fereldan woman quickly explained, "Tonight, I mean."

"Fine, I'll have them both. So, want any tips? You are going to have sex with him, right?" the pirate raised her eyebrows.

"Is it bad that I want to? I've just met him…"

"You're leaving tomorrow for Maker knows how long. You might even die down there. You have to make the most of this night," Isabela made her case.

"I guess you're right."

"So, tips?"

"Sure. Why not? Tell me how to fuck his brains out," Hawke played along.

"That's my girl!" Isabela cheered and started whispering in her ear, making her blush but at the same time all the more aroused.

* * *

Alistair's eyes darkened with lust as he stared at the two women whispering and giggling, their bodies close to each other, both leaning against the counter, with their backs to him. Maker, he was hurting with desire.

After he and Elissa had parted ways, he had been with other women every once in a while. No one that had mattered, though. No one that he had even cared to remember their name. Now, for the first time since the only woman he had ever loved had crushed his heart, he felt connected with someone. Hawke was truly special. Beautiful, smart, brave and strong. She was someone he could actually fall in love with. He couldn't believe they had met no more than a few hours ago. It sure felt like years. And she would leave the next day, for the Deep Roads of all places. He might never even see her again. He had to do something.

* * *

"You and that drunkard put up quite a show," Anders pestered Hawke when she came back to their table.

"Glad you liked it," she said ironically.

"Your skirt is too revealing for you to dance like that," Fenris added.

Hawke rolled her eyes. "I didn't know _Mother_ had been invited to this party."

Anders stood up. "It's true, Hawke. Maybe we should call it a night. We all need to get some sleep before the expedition leaves."

"I'll walk you home," the elf said.

"You two learned how to play with each other now?" she mocked.

A slow song had just started when a hand rested on her shoulder.

"Care for one more dance?" Alistair asked her, his voice husky, almost like a groan in her ear, making her feel all fluttery inside.

She turned to him, a sexy smile curling across her lips. "This is the second time you rescue me today."

Varric chuckled at the sight of both Fenris and Anders fuming as Hawke once again walked away with Alistair.

* * *

He tightened his grip around her waist as they danced, bringing her so close to him he could feel her breath on his neck. He lowered his head, his lips ghosting over her ear.

"I wish we had more time," he whispered, his breath caressing her ear and sending shivers down her spine.

Alistair was saving her again – from herself, this time, as he was making her remember what it was like being desired, being taken care of, being touched with want…

"Let's not waste the little we still have left," she mumbled, her lips softly brushing his neck.

He didn't waste another second. Burying a hand in her silky hair as the other pulled her even closer, crushing their bodies together, he kissed her. She tilted her head up and opened her mouth, allowing their tongues to meet. The kiss quickly became savage as their eager, hungry mouths started fighting for dominance. It couldn't possibly have been any different between two people who had been without love and affection for so long.

All of a sudden he had her pressed against a wall. She had no idea how they had gotten there and she didn't care. Her hands were roaming over his body on their own volition and all she could think about was getting rid of his shirt.

He ran his hands on her thighs, urging her legs up to curl around his waist. She complied, not giving a damn about being in a room full of people, not caring if her sister or her companions were staring at her. To the void with anyone who might be judging her. She was tired of those frustrating men in her band, of loneliness, of being pushed away.

Without letting her mouth ever escape his, Alistair effortlessly carried her up the stairs, across the hallway and into his room. He kept a supportive hand on her ass while the other locked the door behind them. He put her down and they immediately started getting rid of their clothes. They stripped with such urgency and haste, as if their lives depended on how fast they could remove the obstacles between their bare bodies.

Hawke's eyes widened at the sight of his impressive erection. Isabela had not lied about that.

He pulled her to him and started kissing and nibbling her ear and then her neck as his hand snaked down to her warmth. He gasped when he felt how wet she was.

The way he had danced with her had been foreplay enough and she was as ready as he was. All she wanted now was to feel him inside her. It was time to test Isabela's tips.

"Fuck me, Alistair," she purred, grazing her nails on his hairy, masculine chest.

Those words threw him over the edge. In one swift move he turned her around and bent her over the table, positioning himself behind her and making her squeal in surprise. A good surprise, no doubt, as she wantonly spread her legs for him. The ferocious dragon on her back caught his eye. He ran his fingers over it, from the nape of her neck up to the curve of her behind. Her perfect ass up in the air was an irresistible image and he teasingly pushed only the swollen head of his hard length into her.

"Maker's breath, you are so tight!" he exclaimed, as he felt her warmth clenching around him.

"Please, Alistair. I want you! All of you!" she pleaded.

Having a beautiful, hot woman like that, bare, aroused, bent over a table and begging for him was too much to bear. He took several deep breaths as he held back his desire to ravish her like a wild animal, for he wanted to savor the sensation of finally being with someone that made him feel worthy.

He kept pushing slowly into her tightness, enjoying the feeling of her sex accepting him inch by inch and rejoicing in every moan and gasp that escaped her mouth as his shaft stretched her open.

She shifted, trying to adjust to his size as he plunged into her. He could feel her body trying to slip away with his every thrust as he hit that barrier deep inside her. Keeping a strong grip in her hips with one hand, he slipped the other under her and began stroking her clit as he pounded her. Pleasure quickly overcame pain and she began rocking her hips to meet his thrusts, urging him to move faster and harder, taking him fully into her.

Her velvety walls squeezed his length even more as her orgasm hit, making her cry out wordlessly and shiver, her knuckles turning white from the strength of her grip on the edges of the table. The feeling of her release on his member immediately brought him his. He threw his head back, his eyes snapped shut and he moaned low and rough as he pumped his hot seed inside her.

Her body relaxed and she was about to collapse on the hard wooden table when he pulled her up and laid her on his bed. He cradled her in his muscled arms and she nuzzled comfortably into the hollow of his shoulder.

"You know, this was the only night worth living I had since… Maker, it seems like forever," he sighed, pulling her even closer to him.

"This night has just started." Her saucy tone and the devilish way she looked up at him left no room for doubt.

His eyes shone and they kissed, tenderly at first, wantonly a second later. She welcomed the pressure of his body coming over hers and put her arms around his neck. He slid down to her breasts and took a nipple in his mouth. He suckled and grazed his teeth over it while he pinched the other slightly between his fingers. Her luscious moans of pleasure were driving him insane and he pushed her legs apart, aligning himself between her thighs. A wicked smile spread across her face as she felt his prodigious erection eagerly nudging her entrance so soon after their first exertion.

"I heard stories about your great stamina…" she said.

He raised an eyebrow. "Really? What else Isabela told you?"

"That you like it from behind. Want me to turn around?" she offered, looking mischievously at him.

"Or maybe I want to look at your face as I make you come. Maybe I like watching you as you call my name," he replied in between moans, his and hers, as he buried himself into her.

Her legs tightened around him, trying to keep him within her as he pleasurably tormented her, withdrawing completely and then slamming back deep into her. Every time he came back in, she writhed and shivered and there was pain and pleasure all over again as her body seemed to refuse getting used to his length and girth.

He started pummeling her in a punishing pace. Her nails digging into his back and shoulders were driving him mad, bringing him on the verge of orgasm. But he wouldn't come before he had pleasured her. He wanted to hear her scream his name and he would, so he pushed her arms above her head and held both her wrists with one hand. His thrusts faltered for no longer than a couple seconds as he fulfilled this action, but it had been enough for her to miss them.

"Don't stop, Alistair, please! Fuck me!" she begged, her face flushed and her breaths ragged.

Maker, she was not making this easy on him. He hammered her, so fast and hard he feared he might hurt her, but he couldn't hold back anymore. As he felt her channel tightening even more around his length, he knew her climax was upon her. Her sensuous lips cried out his name over and over again and she squirmed beneath him trying to free her arms from his firm grasp as she came. His orgasm immediately followed hers, so strong and overwhelming, his moans came out half-pained.

Her hands were finally free and she lowered them to caress his breathless, sweaty form slumped over her. After a few moments, his breathing hushed and he rolled over to lie on her side. He pulled her to him, her head resting on his chest.

"Hawke, I know I have no right to ask you this, but the Deep Roads… You shouldn't go," he said, genuine concern showing in his voice.

"I'll be fine."

"There was a Warden in your table today. Is he the one that gave you the maps? Is he going with you?" he asked.

"Yes and yes, but how do you know –?"

"I can feel it, the taint."

"No wonder Anders says no one can quit this blighted Order."

"Not entirely, you can't. Even if you quit you still keep the nightmares, the infertility and the short lifespan," he explained. "Only the good stuff," he tried to joke but his voice came out awfully sad.

"I wish we had met in different circumstances," she sighed.

"You mean you not being attacked by those bastards?" he asked.

"I mean you not being in a place like this. After all you have done and gone through, you deserve better," she answered.

"I'm out of the Wardens. And going back to Ferelden is not an option. There's nothing left for me. This is as good place as any to drink myself to sleep."

"Why going back is not an option?"

"I was forced to leave Ferelden in behalf of Queen Anora. As long as I stayed there rebellions could be raised in my name. Ferelden could not endure another civil war. Anora actually called for my execution. But she owed Elissa for letting Loghain live and making her queen. What Elissa asked in return was for her to spare me," he explained.

"I can't understand how it all came to that. It sounds so extreme."

He swallowed hard. "To love a woman like Elissa and have her love me back… I used to think I was a lucky man. But then she met Riordan. He was a senior Warden from Orlais. At that moment, something changed between us. Maybe she fell in love with him. I don't know for sure. She trusted him immediately and the way her eyes were always searching his for reassurance…" he sighed sadly. "At the Landsmeet, after she had defeated Loghain, it was Riordan who suggested that traitor should go through the joining ritual to become a Grey Warden. Elissa agreed to it without hesitation. That was… Maker, that nearly killed me! I didn't want to be king. I still don't. A Grey Warden, that's who I am-was. But I couldn't fight alongside the men who betrayed King Cailan and hunted us down like animals. Joining the Wardens is an honor, not a punishment, and they granted it to that traitor. I could never stand next to him as a brother," his voice raised slightly.

"Loghain died landing the killing blow on the Archdemon. You know that, right?" Hawke said as her fingers ran soothingly across his chest and abs.

"Yes. The Warden that kills the Archdemon always dies with it. His soul is ripped out of his body and destroyed."

Suddenly, it all made perfect sense to Hawke. Did Alistair not see it? "How delightful! Don't you think that's why she accepted Loghain into the Wardens? So neither of you had to die?"

He considered her words for a second. "I guess she might have talked to Riordan about that. They seemed to have the whole thing planned ahead. She didn't even let me fight Loghain because she knew I'd never let him live. But back then I didn't know one of us had to die."

"And now that you know?" she questioned.

"It doesn't change anything. He was a traitor and had to die like one. She made him a hero. If one of us had to be sacrificed in order to end the Blight, I would have stepped in and done it. I'd have fulfilled my duty as a Grey Warden," he tried to keep his voice neutral, but she noticed a hint of anger on it.

"I think you should open those letters she sent you," she finally mentioned the thing that had been bothering her the moment she had set her eyes upon them.

"I don't want to," he uttered.

"Of course you do or you'd have thrown them away already," she retorted.

"If you didn't look this good naked I would scold you for going through my mail," he jested.

"I'm sorry. I just think that there might be something in there that will take you away from here. You're so much better than this place," she insisted.

"You keep saying that, yet _you_ are here," he replied.

"I'm a poor refugee who makes a living as a sword for hire. This is the perfect place for someone like me. You, on the other hand, are the rightful heir to Ferelden's throne, a Grey Warden and a hero."

"I have given up on all that."

"You keep your sword and shield by the bed and stormed into a room full of thugs to save someone you didn't even know. You don't strike me as someone who has given up. You're still a Warden, Alistair, and a pretty damn good warrior."

"Why do you care so much?" he asked.

"You faced all those men to save me. Why did you care?"

"I couldn't just get back into my room and pretend I didn't see them get you. I had to help. I guess… that's who I am."

"Exactly. You should go back to Ferelden, to the Grey Wardens. As Warden Commander, Elissa has rebuilt the Order. Anders is always telling impressive stories about her. Maybe it's time you open those letters. They might explain why she made the decisions she made."

"Hmm, I thought you liked me, but here you are insisting I go after another woman," he teased.

"I hate to see an amazing man like you wasted in this dump. And I don't know what's going to happen on this expedition. We barely know each other. It's not fair that I ask you to wait for me."

" _We barely know each other_. Funny, isn't it? Our paths have been crossing for years now, but only now we've met. I guess that's why I feel like I've known you all my life."

"I feel the same way," she said, gently coiling a finger on his chest hair.

He drew her closer. "At least tonight, then, stay with me."

"I never planned on leaving," she said, snuggling into his chest.

With smiles on their faces and their bodies entangled they drifted off to sleep. It was the most peaceful slumber they both had ever had in the past years.

Sunlight coming through the thin curtains over a small window in the back of the room awakened Alistair. He looked at the beautiful naked woman in his arms and his eyes turned sad. One day by her side and she had already affected him deeply, she had made him feel like the man he was once proud of being – Alistair Theirin, the warrior and the Grey Warden. Now she would leave and he might never even see her again. Life was not being easy on him.

She was slowly coming out of her slumber and he felt her hand trailing lazily from his chest, past his abdomen and to the path of hair leading down to his manhood. She reached his length and began stroking gently. He was hardening quickly in her hands and she opened her eyes to look at him with a cheeky smile spreading across her face.

He ran a hand up her leg and felt the wetness of their juices from the night before that had trickled down her thighs. He kissed her, his mouth muffling her moans of pleasure as he caressed her folds.

With a firm grasp around his already rock hard cock she stroked him harder. He answered by pushing two fingers into her as he rubbed her clit with his thumb, making her roll her hips lustfully into his touch.

Desperate to feel her tight, warm core around his shaft one more time, he pulled his fingers out of her and spun them around, bringing her over to straddle him. The way her body arched and she gasped as she slowly impaled herself on his length was maddening. He couldn't take his eyes off the place where their bodies were joining. Seeing her taking him in, all of him, was almost making him come undone.

With a strong grasp of his wide hands on her hips he was helping her lift herself up and adding potency to her downward slam. Unable to resist her full, round breasts bouncing in front of him as she rode him, he sat up and took one in his mouth. He fondled the other with one hand and kept his free arm around her ass to continue lending force to her up and down movements.

Her body tensed instinctively as she felt him exploring her behind, fingering her rear entrance.

"Don't worry. I won't hurt you," he whispered in her ear as he slowly slid a finger inside her tight ass, making her whimper and shiver.

She had never felt anything like that. Her body was melting into his arms with pleasure that quickly threw her over the edge. They peaked at the same time. She shouted his name, her nails scoring his back as she clutched his shaft, milking him, making him cry out pleas to the Maker along with wordless growls.

Panting and sweating, they collapsed in bed, lying on their backs. Their hands found each other between their bodies and they entwined their fingers. With eyes closed and blissful faces, they enjoyed a well-deserved moment of pure peace and contentment, just lying there, side-by-side as the morning air cooled their sweaty skin. The only sound was their breathing hushing.


	16. The Long and Winding Road (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Deep Roads expedition leaves Kirkwall. Hawke shares a tent with a companion.

Someone knocking impatiently on the door reminded Hawke that it was morning already and the expedition would be leaving any moment.

She tried to get up, but Alistair grabbed her by the waist and pulled her back to bed. He spun them around and pinned her down with his body.

"Don't go," he whispered, nipping her earlobe and tracing the shell of her ear with his tongue.

Her eyes closed as he rained kisses down her neck, his battle-worn hand cupping her breast… Go where? She didn't even remember.

"Marian, are you in there?" Bethany shouted from the other side of the door.

The knocking grew louder.

"Hawke!" Anders called.

 _Right, the expedition_. She let out a frustrated sigh. "Sorry. I have to go."

"I know," he said and rolled off, freeing her.

The door was trembling with forceful, angry bangs. "Hawke!"

"I'm coming, damn it!" she yelled as she gathered her pieces of clothing scattered on the floor.

The banging wouldn't stop, so Alistair rushed into his trousers and answered the door as if everything was perfectly normal. "Yes?" he said, his tone amiable.

He intentionally kept his body in the way of the curious glances Anders and Fenris were shooting into his room.

"I'm sorry, but we need to talk to my sister," Bethany said a little embarrassed as she tried not to stare at his bare chest.

"It's for you, Hawke," he said casually, as if he didn't know that already.

"Can't find my breastband," she complained, ruffling through the sheets and pillows, already in her boots and skirt.

He looked over his shoulder, his eyes searching the room. "Under the table," he said and a silly grin spread across his face as he remembered how he had her bent over there a few hours ago.

Fenris cleared his throat, making Alistair's gaze turn back to them.

"Uh, we didn't introduce ourselves. I'm Bethany and these are Anders and Fenris," the girl said, trying to ease up the awkwardness of that moment.

"I'm Alistair. Nice to meet you," he nodded politely at them.

Hawke finally came over to the door, fully dressed.

"Will you excuse us for a minute?" he asked her companions and closed the door before they could answer anything.

He pulled her closer to him. "Please, don't die down there," he muttered, his lips ghosting over hers.

"I won't," she replied and their mouths came together in a searing kiss that made her knees weak.

It took all her willpower to pull away from him and open the door. Leaning against the doorframe, he watched her leave.

"Take care of her, Warden," he told Anders before they disappeared down the stairs.

He sat on his bed and prayed silently to the Maker to watch over her. It had been a long time since he had last prayed. Losing everything had shaken his faith. The woman he loved had betrayed him. His sister had wanted nothing but his money. The man he had considered a father, had turned his back on him in order to get in the queen's good graces. None of his companions had stood by him. Since that blighted Landsmeet he had had nothing to pray for or to thank the Maker for. He wasn't even grateful for his life being spared, for he had lost all that had given it meaning. Drinking himself into oblivion was how he had planned to spend the rest of his days. And then he met Hawke. A few hours by her side and he had found reason to pray again.

Alistair thanked the Maker for having been able to rescue her from those thugs before they could have hurt her, he pleaded to Him to keep her safe in the Deep Roads and then recited some verses from the Chant of Light. Praying comforted him and he was relieved that he still remembered the words.

For the first time in ages he didn't feel like drinking. He looked at his sword and shield. Elissa had found that shield in a warehouse in Denerim and had given it to him as gift. The sword he had gotten when they had returned to Ostagar. Both weapons had belonged to Duncan – the most admirable man Alistair had ever known. Hawke was right. He shouldn't be in this tavern. Not every night and day, at least. Drinking himself to death was no plan. His gaze fell upon the letters on the stand. It was time to open them.

* * *

Hawke came out of Alistair's room exasperated and with disheveled hair. Her companions were glaring at her and she wished Varric and Isabela were there to give her some support.

"Where's Varric?" she asked, as they took the stairs down.

"He's stalling Bartrand. Trying to buy you some time, since you're late," Anders answered dryly.

"I'm not late," she argued.

"Not yet. But you will be in twenty minutes. I thought you wanted to look professional," her sister said, her tone slightly angry.

"I do. It's just –"

"First a whore. Now a man you had just met. Why are you doing this?" Bethany snapped.

Hawke did not want to get in a fight with her sister, especially when she was about to leave for the Deep Roads. "Alistair… he made me feel good about myself. I don't even remember the last time I felt this way." _It was the night before Ostagar_. "Now is not the time to discuss this." She hoped Bethany would understand and just drop it.

"And when is it the time, then? You never tell me anything," her sister said, sounding disappointed.

When had Gamlen's become so far from the Hanged Man? What Bethany wanted to know she couldn't get herself to talk about and the way Fenris and Anders were glaring at her was not helping at all.

"Why do you keep his ring if you're going to act like this?" the girl asked.

Hawke swallowed hard. The night before Ostagar, the night they had spent together trying to make up for all the time they had lost, she had promised Arthur she would never take his ring off again and she hadn't. She never would.

The rogue rushed past her companions and got into her uncle's hovel to get her rucksack, say goodbye to her mother and do whatever else she needed to do before leaving. Bethany ran after her, leaving the mage and the elf behind with puzzled looks on their faces.

All her companions wore rings, so hers had never caught anyone's attention. Not until now.

Ten minutes later Hawke was out of the house. She was scowling and didn't give any chance for her companions to ask her anything. She just stepped ahead of them and set a hurried pace to Hightown.

Bartrand was giving some sort of encouraging speech to the hirelings when Hawke, Fenris and Anders got there. Varric was relieved to see them on time and pointed them to the oxcart that had been assigned to them. They put their rucksacks on the back of the cart and waited silently while Bartrand spoke.

"Big risks, big rewards," the dwarf shouted.

"There better be. I didn't give up all that coin for nothing," Hawke said, as she walked to stand next to her partners.

"Trust me. You will reap what you sowed. Let's get underway," Bartrand told her.

"Been a long time coming, eh, brother?" Varric said.

"That it has. The Deep Roads await!" the elder brother cried, putting the expedition to move.

* * *

There were ten oxcarts and thirty people in the expedition. Twelve were muscle and there was always a trio of them ahead of the group, scouting, and a trio in the rear, guarding. Bodahn and Sandal were in charge of repairs to armors and weapons, enchantments and were also carrying extra equipment to be sold. A dwarf named Varenmar was assigned to take care of the oxen. Two human brothers, Gideon and Godric, were responsible for preparing and distributing the food. Eight men were in charge of setting camp and loading and unloading the carts, but if there was need, they could also fight. The other five people were the three partners – Hawke, Varric and Bartand – and Fenris and Anders.

Hawke walked all morning by Varric and Bartrand's side and they took the opportunity to talk business. She was not in the mood to deal with Fenris or Anders, and to her relief, they didn't approach her either.

It was a little past noon when they reached the Planasene River. Following its valley was the only easy way to cross the Vimmark Mountains. They were on schedule, so Bartrand gave the caravan a fifteen-minute break to have lunch. They all formed a line behind Godric and Gideon's cart and the brothers gave each person a generous helping of meat pie.

In the afternoon, Hawke walked among the hirelings, making conversation and getting to know the people she would be working with for the next weeks. Fenris noticed they were all men. The only woman in the group was her and that worried him. He was annoyed to see how they were ogling her and she didn't even seem to notice. Every time she jumped on the back of a cart, her skirt swayed and showed her thighs, causing the hirelings to elbow each other and smirk. She was being too reckless again but since she was always so stubborn, he didn't know if warning her about it would work.

* * *

Everyone could get on one of the carts if they got tired of walking, thus there was no reason for them to take long breaks. Also it was the beginning of Harvestmere, so the weather was rather nice. Not too hot, nor too cold. This way, Bartrand pushed them to walk until late in the evening.

When they finally stopped, they were already halfway across the mountains. There was an old inn there and if it wasn't for a lit lantern in the porch anyone would think it was abandoned. Gideon and Godric gave everyone a loaf of bread, salted beef and cheese for dinner and, after Bartrand announced they all should be ready to leave at the break of dawn, they all scattered. While some set camp, others preferred to go to the inn.

Hawke, her companions, Bartrand and a few hirelings got in the old inn and found a couple playing cards in the candlelight. The man snorted when the group came in, but the woman welcomed them and informed she and her grumpy husband owned the place. There were two small rooms with one bunk bed each and two larger ones with two bunk beds each. At the end of the hallway there was a privy. Varric negotiated one silver per bed and paid one extra for Hawke to be alone in her room, imagining she would prefer that way. She was grateful and immediately went to lock herself in there, leaving the others to figure out with whom they would share theirs.

She changed into her usual nightgown, which was some loose old cotton pants and long-sleeved shirt, and sat on the bed, staring pensively at a random spot on the wall. She was feeling sore in all the right places, which had kept the blond warrior in her mind all day. The past night had been the only time she had felt truly happy with a man since Arthur. Alistair had really wanted to be with her and had made her feel loved and desired. It felt infinitely better than having to pay Jethann to pretend he wanted to be with her.

With images of the past night in her head, Hawke laid down in bed and slid a hand under her pants. She had removed all her trinkets except for Arthur's ring which got caught in the waistband of her smalls. She pulled her hand back up and while readjusting the ring on her finger, she ran her thumb over the carved hawk. Her expression instantly saddened. That ring was a constant reminder of all the things she had lost, of shattered dreams and failed promises. And when Alistair had made her forget about that for a little while, soon enough Bethany was there to remind her. She didn't blame her sister for taking away her brief moment of joy, though. She had caused the death of the man she loved and she didn't deserve to forget that. With that painful memory on her mind, she got under the covers and fell asleep. It was a restless slumber, for she thrashed with nightmares the whole night.

* * *

The expedition left on time the next morning. Bartrand was shouting and cursing all the time during their first half hour of journey, but since they were on schedule, Hawke ignored his complaints, guessing he was being an ass out of habit. By lunchtime they had already left the mountain range. If they kept that pace, they would get to the Deep Roads entrance the next day.

"You look like shit, Hawke," Varric observed. "And it's just our second day on the road."

"Thank you, Varric. Glad you noticed," she said sarcastically. She looked weary and had dark circles around her eyes.

"Bad dreams?" the dwarf guessed.

Hawke nodded, "the usual ones."

"You look like the haunted-by-my-past type," he said.

"Not the brightest remark, since you know I fought at Ostagar and I'm a refugee."

"But I'm guessing there's more..."

"Isn't there always?"

"Want to talk about it?"

"Looking for information to embellish your tales?"

"You wound me, Hawke," he said in mock indignation. "I care about you. Seriously."

"What did Bethany tell you?"

"Not much."

"Good."

"You had a fiancé."

"Crap."

"If you ever feel like talking about it…"

"Right."

"Not now, I guess?"

"No."

It was getting darker and darker and the group had not come across a clearing big enough to settle all the tents close together. If there were going to be tents scattered among the trees, it meant more people would have to be up in guard duty, but they had no option. It was too late in the evening for them to keep pressing forward.

A few fires were lit and Hawke and her companions sat by the one closer to their tents as they ate dinner.

"You are the only woman here," Fenris said, trying to sound casual.

Hawke looked at him and then back at the chunk of bread on her wooden plate and said nothing, so he continued. "The hirelings have been staring at you. Your armor is… distracting."

"It's the skirt, you know," Anders added.

Hawke just rolled her eyes, too tired to argue.

"We could take turns watching your tent while you sleep," the elf suggested.

"Nonsense. I won't have you up at night on my behalf. This expedition is going to be exhausting enough as it is."

Both Anders and Fenris opened their mouths to protest, but she interrupted them. "Since it seems like you're not going to drop it, how about we share a tent?"

Her proposal had not been directed to any of them specifically. The elf wondered if that was appropriate and if he could handle having her so close for all those nights to come. The mage considered if it meant something else. No doubt it was a perfect opportunity for them to get to know each other better.

Varric, who had been quiet this whole time just observing their conversation, finally spoke. "It's a good idea, Hawke. We can share mine. It's bigger than yours," he offered.

"Thank you, Varric. I'll get my bedroll," she said, getting up.

Fenris muttered a curse under his breath. That blasted dwarf was too helpful. And too quick. Again.

Anders faked a smile and kept eating.

* * *

**Third day.** As expected, the expedition reached the Deep Roads' entrance around lunchtime. It should take a week now for them to reach the thaig. Up to that point their journey had been uneventful. If there had been bandits or wolves on their way they had not dared to attack such a large group. Inside the tunnels things probably wouldn't go that smoothly anymore, though. Anders started walking with the three scouts, ahead of the group for he could sense the darkspawn and warn the others in advance. Hawke and Varric were right behind them, to provide backup if needed. And Fenris joined the men guarding the rear.

For the next three days they traveled without any delays. A few genlocks crossed their path, but Anders fried them before anyone could even draw a weapon. Though days and nights were indistinguishable, they were managing to keep track of time. Every evening they would set camp and Gideon and Godric would serve them a simple wheat soup. For breakfast it was porridge and lunch was usually gruel. At least the cooks had taken some spices to season the food and make it tasty. The bread, cheeses and pies they had taken were just for first two days, while they were still on the surface, because they spoiled rather fast. As for water, Bartrand had taken four barrels that Anders was to fill with ice every time one of them emptied. Since there was no more grass, the oxen were eating some kind of ration made of hay, corn and wheat that Varenmar himself had prepared and packed two whole carts with.

Nights at camp were always the same. Hawke and her companions would eat together and then Anders would go heal the hirelings of blisters and other minor injuries and fill their waterskins. Hawke, Varric and Fenris would drink a mug of ale and retire – the elf to his own tent, the rogues to their shared one. Always tired at the end of the day, they would all quickly fall sleep.

 **Seventh day.** There had been a collapse and the way forward was blocked. Bartrand ordered the hirelings to set camp and start working on clearing the path. Three hours had passed and there had been no sign of progress. They managed to remove just a couple of rocks only to find more rocks behind them.

Hawke was getting impatient. She looked at Varric and signaled to a side passage. He understood what she meant and went to talk to his brother. Their conversation was taking longer than she expected, so she approached them.

"You think I'm an idiot, Varric? The side passages are too dangerous!" Bartrand spoke, raising his voice.

"I'll deal with whatever we find if it means not sitting here," Hawke chimed in.

Bartrand conceded and let them go. She gathered her companions and when they were about to leave, Bodahn came asking them to find Sandal.

"You knew the risk when you decided to bring a kid here," Hawke replied.

"Then I need to find him myself," Bodahn said and disappeared through the side passage.

"Wonderful! Let's find a way around before the expedition runs off one by one," Varric said, clearly upset. No, this was not right. They were friends and there was no reason for him to hide his annoyance. "Shit, Hawke. Why not help him?" he questioned.

"Fuck!" she said, realizing what she had done. "I guess I'm not thinking straight without sunlight. I was going to help him, I just –"

"Wanted to scold him first? Anyway, you are right. This is no place for a kid," Anders remarked.

"You have to keep it together, Hawke. And I thought Broody here would be the first to snap. Being an elf, I imagined he would miss frolicking in the woods," Varric said.

"I do not frolic," Fenris uttered.

"No, of course not. You could end up having fun and then you'd spend a day without brooding. It wouldn't be good for you," the dwarf joked.

"I do not brood either," the elf said.

Hawke rolled her eyes. She knew exactly where this was going. "You can have this argument _again_ while we move. Let's go find them before it's too late," she said and rushed into the tunnel.

She just hoped she would find Bodahn alive and then she would do all in her power to rescue his kid. The aggressive way she talked to people was a defense mechanism. She used to be more the charming, funny type, always with a smart comeback or a witty remark to say, but since life seemed to be out to get her and tragedy and guilt had started following her around, she had became more hostile. But now she had people she trusted, she was conquering a better life for her family and she had even found a man she liked. Maybe it was time to start letting her barriers down. Could she do that?

Her harsh words had put a good man in danger. Maybe she should start there – thinking before speaking, being more careful with her words.

While fighting a few darkspawn on the side passage, Hawke heard someone crying for help not far ahead. She rushed after the noises to find Bodahn being knocked out by a hurlock. Taunting the foes, she attracted them to her before they could hit the dwarf a second time. She started running back to where her companions were so they could all fight the enemies that were now chasing her. Suddenly she felt an excruciating pain that unfortunately she was familiar with – crushing prison. How come she hadn't noticed an emissary among them?

Her daggers fell from her hands as she squirmed and screamed. And then, as suddenly as it had started, it was over. Surely someone had killed the emissary, but she didn't even look around to know who it had been. Still gasping for air, she grabbed her blades and ran back to Bodahn, to make sure he was safe.

"I'm such a fool! How could running off like that have helped the boy?" the dwarf was saying when Hawke's companions reached them.

"It's okay. You're only thinking of your son's safety," she replied.

"If you find Sandal out there I pray you do the same for him," Bodahn asked, before leaving. Luckily he was fine.

"You take too many foolish risks, Hawke. Some time there might not be anyone there to save you," Fenris growled, clearly angry.

She said nothing. The elf was right. She really was reckless and had willingly endangered her life to save Anders and now Bodahn. But she had done it because she couldn't handle any more guilt. If she was going to try and be a nicer person, to try and live her life, she couldn't add to the grief she already carried in her heart. That was overwhelming as it was. So if someone else was to die because of her, she would rather die herself instead.


	17. The Long and Winding Road (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke and Varric have some laughs on Fenris and Anders' expense. Bartrand betrays them.

Still on their search for Sandal, Hawke and her band came across a monstrous spider. She warned her companions that where there was a big one like that, there were also dozens of smaller ones. After spending two years hunting spiders more than anything else in Lothering, she knew all there was to know about the creatures. It would never take her more than one blow to kill the beasts, for she knew exactly where to strike. She massacred them easily. When Anders froze the monstrous one, she skillfully climbed on its back. The moment the spell ended, she landed a sure blow and finished it off.

Not far ahead, Hawke and her companions found Sandal. There were a few dead darkspawn and a frozen ogre around him. Though he said it was not enchantment, he did give her a frost rune. Anyway, he was one odd dwarf. If what he was saying was true, the only other explanation she could think of for a frozen ogre was Sandal being the first and only dwarven mage. But there was too much on her head already, so she decided to leave that mystery unsolved.

Just to be sure, Hawke pushed the iced creature over the edge and watched with a smirk on her face as it shattered on the ground. The boy headed back to the camp and now they could focus on finding and clearing a way around the cave-in. They kept pressing forward and fighting small groups of darkspawn that would show up every now and then.

"Don't open it!" Anders said when they reached a closed door.

"Why? Did you sense anything?" Hawke asked.

"I'm sensing things all the time. There's darkspawn everywhere around here. It's just that this is a big one. An ogre, probably," he answered and noticed how her eyes widened when he said those last three words. "Do. Not. Open. It." he repeated in an effort to contain the anxiety that was taking over her.

"Why not?" she asked, gritting her teeth.

"The last time we ate it was lunch and that was eight hours ago, before we had even reached the cave-in. We have been walking and fighting for at least four hours now. We're in no condition to keep going," the healer said.

"Blondie is right, Hawke. Let's go back. Without enemies on our way we'll be in the camp in two hours, maybe less. We eat, sleep, and tomorrow if the main tunnel is still closed, we return here," Varric seconded.

Fenris didn't say anything, which Hawke knew it meant he agreed with the mage but wasn't keen on admitting it.

It was three against one, so she conceded and they went back to the camp.

 **Eighth day.** The hirelings didn't make much progress clearing the path and the fact that Varric and Hawke had still not found a way around it was putting Bartrand on edge. He awakened the whole camp one hour earlier than usual, already shouting orders and cursing everyone.

He put his head inside Varric's tent to rush him and was startled to find Hawke slipping her boots on, while his younger brother was buckling his belt. "Are you two a couple now? Nug shit, Varric! What would mother say?" he grumbled and left.

Varric shook his head. "I'll get us breakfast," he told Hawke and got out of the tent.

"Morning, Glow Boys," he greeted Fenris and Anders who were staring at him.

Having heard Bartrand's comment, the mage and the elf were wondering if the elder Tethras had seen anything going on between Varric and Hawke.

A few minutes later the four of them were sitting on the stone ground, eating porridge. Hawke's bowl had been brought by the dwarf which again made Fenris and Anders think if he was just being nice or if it meant something else.

"Are you two…" the healer started, his curiosity getting the best of him.

"Are we what, Anders?" she asked. She knew what he meant, but she wanted to tease him.

He cleared his throat. "You know."

"I don't," she replied, making Varric smirk.

"Are you… together?" the mage asked.

Fenris kept his face expressionless, pretending not to care about the subject.

The rogues laughed and gave him no answer.

"What is up with you? Why are you still here?" Bartrand growled as he approached them. "We wasted a day already."

"We are eating, brother. We'll leave in ten minutes," Varric said.

"Sodding blighters," Bartrand muttered under his breath as he went to harass the next group of people.

A couple of hours later Hawke was rushing ahead of her companions to open the door and face the ogre Anders had sensed. She had been thinking about slaying that beast since the day before, so she was even madder than usual. She darted towards it, her heart racing, rage in her eyes and not taking any notice at all of the many traps on the floor.

Her right leg got stuck in one of them and she cried loudly with the pain of her skin and muscles being shredded. The ogre prepared to ram her and there wasn't much she could do.

"I need a hand here," she yelled as she hit the ogre with a miasmic flask, trying to buy herself a couple of seconds.

Luckily her band was right behind her. Anders froze the creature as Fenris rushed to stand between Hawke and the ogre, protecting her while attacking it.

Varric hastily freed her from the trap and she dragged herself away from the blighted enemy. While the elf and the mage finished off the monster, the dwarf disarmed the rest of the traps on the floor. Once the ogre fell, Anders kneeled beside her to start healing her leg.

"Let me spare you the trouble of lecturing me again, elf" she said when she noticed Fenris glaring at her. "I admit I was reckless. It's just that –"

"She has an issue with ogres," Varric said.

"What kind of issue?" Anders asked.

"Let's just say I don't like them," she replied.

"I don't think their own mothers like them. And you don't just dislike them. You go frantic every time you see one," Varric laughed.

"Bethany told you, didn't she?" she guessed.

"Told what?" the healer asked.

"People dear to me were killed by ogres," she explained.

"People? She only told me about your brother," the dwarf said.

"Who else?" the mage asked.

"My leg still hurts, Anders. What are you doing down there?" she changed the subject.

"I'm not done healing it yet. The cuts are too deep. It'll probably leave a scar."

"Shit!"

"What's the matter? You wanted a scar from the dragon!"

"Exactly. From the _dragon_. Not from a stupid trap I'm trained to spot and disarm."

The mage shook his head and helped her up once she was healed. They kept advancing in the tunnel undisturbed for over an hour since the Warden wasn't sensing anymore darkspawn. Until they ran into a dragon and a bunch of dragonlings.

"Varric, take care of the little ones. Anders, protect us. Fenris, let's get the big one," Hawke told them and vanished to reappear behind the dragon. She struck its left wing with both her daggers so it wouldn't fly away.

Anders enveloped them with Heroic Aura and a shield. The creature was focused on Fenris and the elf was ducking its claws and circling it, looking for opportunities to hit it. Hawke was keeping herself behind it, dodging from the swings of its tail as she stabbed it. The mage switched to elemental attacks, but the dragon was resisting.

"Incoming!" Hawke shouted to warn her companions as she threw a combustion grenade.

The dragon was badly hurt now and wouldn't last long. Anders froze it and Fenris got closer. When the elf was about to land a killing blow, he was knocked down. He looked up to see Hawke over him, her body pressed against his on the stone floor.

"Are you mad, woman?" he yelled angrily.

"You killed the last one. This one is mine," she said and jumped on her feet.

Rushing towards the dragon, she ducked its head as it tried to bite her and buried a dagger in the soft skin underneath its jaw. Her blade went through its palate and she kept pushing it deeper as the beast squirmed until the tip of her dagger was out through its head. The dragon fell dead on the ground and she yanked her blade out of it.

"One for me. We're keeping score, right?" she said, a proud grin on her face. "At least for the dragons?"

"Sure," Varric laughed wholeheartedly, amazed at how Hawke never ceased to surprise him. She really was mad.

* * *

They had finally found a way around the cave-in and the path was safe, so they went back to the camp to tell Bartrand the good news. Since it was already dinnertime when they arrived, the journey would continue next morning.

Hawke took her bowl of wheat soup and went to sit by Fenris' side, minding to keep enough distance so she wouldn't accidentally touch him.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"I don't think you are," he replied.

"I am. Truly. I should not have jumped over you like that. I know how you hate being touched."

He was startled. He thought her apology was for being careless, not for touching him. "Is that why you think I'm angry?"

"Is it not?"

"You were reck – "

"Reckless, stubborn, endangered my life, blah blah blah."

"Do not mock me, woman."

"I'm sorry, Fenris. I shouldn't have. I don't even know how many times you saved my life…"

"Four."

"Three and a half. Anders helped the last one." Shit, that is the worst thing I could've said right now. I'll never be friends with this elf.

Fenris made a move to stand, but she grabbed his arm. He looked at her hand and she let go immediately. He wished she hadn't and longed to tell her that, but the words got stuck in his throat.

"Shit! I'm so sorry, Fenris. Again. Apparently I don't know how to not offend you. You're right. About everything. I'm being careless and I'm putting all our lives at risk, not just mine. I –" she blurted nervously.

"Maybe that's a rogue thing. Varric and Isabela sure seem to enjoy your crazy stunts," he said, not sounding angry for the first time that day.

Was he comforting her? That was surprising. She gave him a warm smile and suddenly he didn't remember why he had been mad at her. The quickest smile ever passed his lips, but she noticed it. Maybe not all was lost with this elf.

"Ale? It's been a rough day," Varric interrupted as he approached them with three mugs on his hands.

Each got a mug and the dwarf sat with them, making small talk as they finished their dinner and drink.

"I'm going to bed, Hawke. Join me?" Varric asked her.

"Sure," she answered and followed him.

Fenris' eyes lingered on the closed flaps of their tent for a couple of minutes after they had gotten in, until Anders came over.

"What do you think they are doing in there?" the healer asked.

"How am I supposed to know, mage?" the elf replied.

"Well, don't you have better hearing than humans?"

"I do."

"So? Don't you want to know if they are…?"

Fenris was reluctant to admit but he was as curious as the abomination to find out if Hawke and the dwarf were together. "Fine," he agreed and tried to focus on the sounds coming from the tent.

_"I've never seen one this big, Varric."_

_"Rivaini told me she has had hundreds in her hands and they were never this size."_

"This was not a good idea," the elf said, turning his head away from the tent.

"What did you hear?" Anders asked.

"If you want to know this much, go check for yourself, abomination," Fenris retorted.

The mage approached the tent as silently as he could, but thanks to the lit fire next to their tent, the rogues noticed his shadow on the canvas and figured he was spying on them. They looked at each other and came to an understanding without any words being spoken. The next sounds Anders and Fenris heard were: _"Harder, Varric. Yes! Yes!"_ and _"Maker, Hawke, you're so hot!"_

"Are you hearing this?" the mage asked the elf.

"Of course I am. Everyone in the camp can hear it," Fenris replied. "Vehnedis!"

And then the canvas was being rocked and shaken and there were kissing noises and loud moans.

"I think they are messing with us," Anders said. "You better check it."

"You check it. I don't care about this."

"Oh, I can see you do."

"I am not checking it."

"Fine, I'll do it," the mage gave up.

He pushed the flaps open to see Hawke and Varric as far from each other as they could be inside a tent that small, both more involved in shaking the canvas than anything else.

"Hey, Blondie, don't you see what we are doing? Give us some privacy, you pervert!" Varric jested and Hawke joined him as he burst into laughter.

Anders snorted and closed the flaps. "They were just messing with us," he said as he stalked past Fenris and into his own tent.

* * *

The expedition was back to the same routine they used to follow before reaching the collapse and kept advancing towards the thaig for the next four days.

 **Thirteenth day.** Everyone looked pale and exhausted under the torchlight. There was no more laughter or even talking between the travelers. Moods were getting bitterer by the hour. Being underground for so long was taking its toll on everyone. Hawke was worried about Anders. He was working more than everybody else. He had to walk ahead of the main group, along with the scouts the whole day, because he could sense darkspawn. Then, in the evening he would heal injuries and fill waterskins and barrels and always ended up going to bed later than everyone, just to thrash all night with nightmares.

"How are you holding up?" she asked the mage during their lunch break.

"Not great, Hawke. I hate the Deep Roads," he answered.

"Nightmares?"

"Every night in this blighted place."

"Maybe… maybe I should sleep in your tent… I could wake you up every time you start thrashing. Would that help?" she offered and suddenly Anders didn't look so beat anymore. Fenris on the other hand was staring daggers at them.

"I don't think it's a good idea, Hawke," Varric said.

"Why not?" the healer asked, clearly annoyed at the dwarf's intrusion.

"Because she has nightmares too." Varric turned to Hawke. "You cry and scream in your sleep almost every night. You call your brother's name and some other…" he explained.

"Arthur," Fenris said.

"Yes. Arthur. Except for one night when you were moaning and saying 'Oh, Alistair'" Varric said the last words in a girly voice.

Hawke blushed furiously, feeling more exposed than if she were naked in front of them. "I'll be in my own tent from now on. This whole sharing thing was a terrible idea," she uttered and left to return her empty plate to the cooks.

"Shit! Hawke, wait!" Varric yelled and went after her.

"You talk too much, dwarf," she growled when he reached her.

"It's just that… we're all friends. I thought –"

"You are my friend, Varric. Fenris and Anders… I don't know. They are more like colleagues."

"Come on, Hawke, you can't actually think that. The Glow Boys are down here for you. If someone is willing to follow you into the Deep Roads, that's friendship to say the least. Well, let's not rule out insanity."

"I'm paying them, you know. Or at least I will when we get back… if we find anything in here," she said.

"See? Only friends are that trusting."

"Hmm, I guess you're right," she smiled.

That afternoon they finally arrived at the thaig. Camp was set right outside it and Hawke would scout it with her companions the next morning and clear it of enemies.

 **Fourteenth day.** Gideon and Godric packed lunch and dinner for Hawke and her band so they wouldn't have to return to camp to eat, because that would be a major delay in the thaig's exploration and they already were almost two days behind schedule.

They progressed fast inside that unusual place – it was nothing like the thaigs the dwarves in the expedition knew – finding no more than a few shades and the occasional golem to offer them resistance. Hawke was not in a good mood, worried that they still hadn't found anything of great value in there.

They came across a door attached to a strange mechanism, but didn't pay that much attention as they spotted something shiny over some kind of altar in the middle of the room on the other side of the door.

"It's definitely magic. And not the good kind," Anders warned them.

"It's lyrium," Fenris added. He could feel his markings humming as he got closer to the idol.

Bartrand had been following them and came into the room right after they had found the idol. As soon as he put his hands on it, he turned on his heels, closing the door behind him. It sealed itself, locking Hawke and her companions inside.

"Bartrand! Are you joking? You're going to screw over your own brother for a lousy idol?" Varric yelled, banging ineffectively on the door.

"It's not just the idol. The location of this thaig alone is worth a fortune. And I'm not splitting that three ways. Sorry, brother," the elder Tethras shouted from the other side.

They all tried to push the door open, but it wouldn't budge. They would have to find another way out.

As they got into the next room, they had to fight more shades and a golem that took forever to die. When it was over, Hawke was exhausted and looked at her companions to see how they were doing. Anders was drained. Fenris looked strained and was irritated by the way the red lyrium veins on the walls were reacting to the lyrium on his skin. Varric was angry and frustrated.

"Let's eat and then get some sleep," she said.

"Sleep? In here?" Anders questioned.

"Yes. Where else? I'll take the first watch," she replied.

They were not carrying their tents, bedrolls and the rucksacks with the rest of their belongings. All they had was their pouches. They ate only half the dinner the cooks had packed them and saved the other half for breakfast.

Anders and Varric lay down on the hard stone floor, each on a different corner. Using their pouches as pillows, they quickly fell asleep as Hawke stood by the door, watching the tunnel.

She noticed Fenris scratching and rubbing himself. The buzzing of the lyrium on his skin was disturbing him and keeping him from sleep. With everyone already in a poor mood, it would not be easy to stand an even broodier Fenris the next morning. Maybe there was something she could do to help.

"You're too close to the wall. Try lying down in the middle of the room," she suggested.

The elf did what she said, but it didn't help that much. Though he usually was able to fall asleep easily even in the worst accommodations imaginable, since he had been a slave for so long, with all that raw lyrium on the walls he would never sleep.

Hawke was on watch for over an hour now and Fenris was still disquiet, so she approached him.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" she asked.

"I don't think there is," he answered.

"I'm sorry I brought you here. I had no idea it would be like this," she apologized.

He said nothing, so she continued. "What if Anders put a shield around you? Do you think it might help?"

"No, I do not," he replied drily.

"I know you don't like him, but I meant no offense. I just want you to feel better. You can't be up all night and then walk all day," she said, concerned.

"It wouldn't be the first time."

"Who knows what enemies we're going to find in here? We need to rest so we can have a chance of surviving."

"All this lyrium… You can't understand. It's maddening," he said and got up, heading to the door.

"Where are you going?"

"Find something to kill; find a way out. I do not know. Leave me."

"No!" she exclaimed, and rushed to grab his arm.

He looked angrily at her, his markings glowing faintly but she was not afraid and this time she would not let go. "Now it's you who's being reckless! I won't let you risk your life alone out there. The only way you are leaving this room tonight is over my dead body."

His expression softened as he realized that the only spot in his skin that wasn't driving him crazy was where her hand was touching him. Her skin felt warm and comfortable against his.

"You're too loud," Varric complained.

"Sorry!" Hawke said.

"Ah, never mind. I'm up now, so I'll take watch. Go get some sleep," the dwarf said.

"So?" Hawke asked Fenris, her brows arched and her grasp still firm on his arm.

"I'll stay," he conceded.

Relieved, she smiled at him and let go of his arm. He missed her touch instantly. Could he tell her that? Could he ask her for more?

"Hawke…" he started.

"I only touched you because I couldn't let you go out there alone. I'm sorry," she sighed tiredly. Tired of apologizing to him, tired of the Deep Roads, tired of life screwing her at every corner. Tired.

"It's not that."

As he worked up the nerve to continue she noticed his thumb brushing his arm where her hand had been and he looked almost… pleased?

She was startled. "You liked it, didn't you? Did it make you feel better?"

"You… I… Yes," he staggered.

"Take off your armor," Hawke said and beckoned him to lie down in the middle of the room.

His eyes widened. This was not a good idea.

"Do it, Fenris. If I can help you get some sleep, I will," she insisted.

In his tunic and leggings he laid on his back with his head resting on his pouch and she sat down by his side. She was close, too close.

He stared at her, unsure of what to do next.

"May I?" she asked as she slowly moved a hand towards his arm.

No, she may not. What was he thinking when he agreed to this? But before he could say anything, her fingers were upon him. Softly she caressed the markings on his left hand and arm and he immediately felt more comfortable.

He flinched when she first brushed his cheek, but she didn't retreat. Soon he relaxed. Her fingers kept running smoothly over his arms, hands, face and hair and it didn't take much long until he fell asleep.

No, she didn't have any soothing powers over lyrium or anything like that. What really made him feel better was being touched with such care and having someone minding for his well-being. That was not something he was used to. Feeling a touch that was not meant to hurt brought him peace and pleasure and that easily overcame the annoyance the raw lyrium was causing him.

 **Fifteenth day.** When Fenris woke up in the morning, he was alone and enveloped by a magic shield. He looked around and saw her talking to the abomination by the door.

"Morning, Fenris," she smiled and came over to his side. "I asked Anders if there was anything he could do to keep the lyrium on your skin from reacting with these veins on the walls so he conjured some kind of healing shield or something like that. He thought it might work. Does it?"

He hated that it did. It worked. Blasted mage! "Yes, thank you," he said reluctantly.

"He can't keep it up all the time, though. It can be draining. So it'll be just at night, until you fall sleep. Is that okay?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied.

She made a sign to the mage and the shield was gone.

After breakfast they kept exploring the thaig, fighting their way through shades and weird rock wraiths and collecting some small relics they could sell if they ever managed to get out of there.

They were about to call it a day when they ran into a demon. The creature told them about a key that would get them out of there and offered them a deal. Knowing for a fact that there was a way out lifted their spirits. They did not take the deal and decided they were going to find the key by themselves. However when they sat down to scrape and eat their last bits of salted beef and crackers, they couldn't help but wonder if they had made the right choice. They had no more food and the only organic thing in that thaig was the occasional mushroom. Would they survive long enough to find their way out?


	18. The Long and Winding Road (Part 3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The expedition arrives in Kirkwall. Hawke and her companions find a way out of the thaig.

**Seventeenth day.** After having water for breakfast, a stamina draught for lunch and walking and fighting all day, Hawke and her companions were not in their best shape when they had to face a huge ancient rock wraith that crossed their path.

The battle was their longest to date. When Hawke jumped to land with both her daggers on the creature's exposed chest and finally end the fight, all her companions were prone on the ground. If any of them was dead… No, she couldn't even bear thinking of that possibility.

She rushed towards Anders first. With trembling hands she turned him on his back. His face was covered in blood that was gushing from a wound on his forehead. He wasn't dead, just passed out and she let out a relieved sigh. Once he was recovered he could heal the others. If the others were alive. _Fuck!_

She got a bandage from an injury kit and tied it up tightly around his head, compressing the wound so it would stop bleeding. He seemed to be coming to. Lifting his head she carefully poured a healing potion down his throat. He opened his eyes and gave her a faint smile.

Hawke helped him sit up and handed him a mana draught.

"You're covered in blood," he remarked, his voice weak. "Do you need healing?"

"A lot of this blood is yours. As soon as you recover your mana, heal yourself first, okay? I'll go check out on the others," she said.

Luckily Fenris was already getting up by himself and Varric was beginning to move. Everyone was alive.

Either limping or dragging themselves, the four of them managed to gather on a secluded corner so they could recover from their wounds with less chance of being found by any remaining enemy. Injury kits were used and health potions were drained as healing magic sparkled weakly. They were still hungry, exhausted, bloodied and in pain but at least no one was badly hurt anymore.

"I'm getting truly sick of looking at stalactites. Or are they stalagmites? Shit, I don't know," Varric said, trying to break the deadly silence, but everyone was too tired to talk or even smile.

Not minding of personal spaces or each other's filth, stink and sweat Hawke rested her head on Fenris' left shoulder and he leaned his head on hers; Anders lied down and rested his head on her right thigh and the dwarf lay down next him. Without anyone saying anything or making any plans they fell asleep in that dark corner. They had no food, no clean clothes and no energy. All the comfort they could have was what they could get from each other's company and they clung to that. Each other was all they had left.

 **Eighteenth day.** They drank a health potion in the morning to help them get through another day on empty stomachs and resumed their search for a way out. Not far from the spot where they had spent the night, they found a room full of chests, coins and relics. There was also a door.

They ran towards the door first and tried to open it, but it was locked. The demon had mentioned a key. Maybe it was in that treasure room. They started looking for it, not at all excited about the riches in there. If they couldn't get out of there alive there was no point in collecting all that gold.

Hawke had her head tucked inside a chest. "A key? A key!" she yelled.

"The kind that open doors, I hope," Varric said, eagerly. There had been too much disappointment already in that expedition.

Everyone had expectant eyes glued on Hawke as she turned the key in the lock and it worked. Anders rushed past the threshold and checked the new path. "That's it! It's the Deep Roads! We're out of this Maker forsaken thaig!"

Hawke grabbed Varric and hugged him, lifting his feet off the ground. The mage came over and took the dwarf from her, hugging him too.

"Come on, Blondie! Stop that! Put me down!" Varric complained.

Anders let him go and pulled Hawke in a tight embrace. He gave her a kiss in the cheek before pulling away from her.

"Phew! Maker's breath, Hawke! You're one strong lady!" the dwarf exclaimed as he straightened his coat.

Fenris observed the others as they laughed and hugged and kissed. All that joy and spontaneity that he didn't know how to take part in…

"Aren't you excited, Fenris?" Hawke asked, interrupting his thoughts.

"I, uh, yes," he mumbled.

She smiled warmly at him and then she hugged him. It was the first time someone had ever hugged him – that he could remember of. It felt so good he couldn't help but put his arms around her. Without his armor between them it had to be even better. And without her armor. And no tunics or shirts, just her skin against his…

"Let's collect the best pieces we can carry out of here and then go," Varric said, bringing the elf back to reality.

* * *

"Dinner!" Hawke yelled and ran ahead of her companions, disappearing in the dark tunnel.

The men rushed after her and found her already on her way back to meet them with two dead deep stalkers in her hands.

"Are they spitters?" Varric asked.

"By the acid burn on her arm, I'd say yes, they are," Anders said, already healing her.

"Shit! Do not say we cannot eat them…" she grumbled.

"We can as long as we manage to cut off the poison glands without bursting them," the mage explained. "I think I can do it. I saw Elissa doing it many times when we were traveling in the Deep Roads."

"You never told us how you got to be on a first-name basis with the Warden Commander, Blondie," Varric said.

"It's not a very interesting story," the healer replied as he hanged the deep stalkers by their tails on the wall with a glyph of paralysis and started looking for the poison glands.

"Of course it is. You're just not telling it right," the dwarf said.

"Why do you want to know about that?"Anders asked.

"I think it might fit in this new story I'm writing," Varric answered. "It's an epic poem about a hopelessly romantic apostate, waging an epic struggle against forces he can't possibly defeat."

The mage glared at him. "What do you mean, 'can't possibly defeat?'"

"Well, it's not a good story unless the hero dies," the dwarf explained.

"Blast it! I burst a gland. I'll cut out the whole neck and we'll eat just the torso of this one," Anders said, upset.

"It's okay, Blondie. Relax," Varric chuckled. "I'll bleed them and then you disembowel and skin them," he pointed at Hawke and Fenris, who nodded in agreement.

"How are we going to cook them?" Anders asked.

"We can stick their parts on Bianca's arrows and put them on the fire," Hawke suggested.

Varric was not happy about that idea but since he had none better, he conceded.

"Uh, what do they taste like?" Fenris asked.

"Seriously, Fenris? It's been three days since we last ate. You can't possibly be worried about taste," Hawke replied.

"Chicken. They taste like chicken, elf," Varric laughed. "And, Blondie, I'm still waiting for you to tell the story."

"Fine," the mage sighed. "Elissa… she's a formidable woman. She's the one who gave me Ser Pounce-a-lot."

Fenris snorted when he heard the cat's name, but Anders ignored him and kept talking. "Anyway, she was a good friend. We were always drinking together and going in these long quests where we spent many days and nights together all the time and we'd flirt…"

"Don't stop now, Blondie. I can tell it's about to get good," Varric said.

Anders smiled sadly and continued. "One night she came over to my tent. We slept together but… I woke up alone. The next day she didn't want to talk about it. From that time on, every now and then she would come over again. And it was always the same. We would have sex and she would leave."

"And you weren't fine with that?" the dwarf asked.

"I fell for her," the mage said. "And I decided we couldn't go on like that. I had to talk to her, to tell her I wanted more and that I was in love with her. We were at Vigil's Keep, so I went over to her bedroom and…"

"She was with someone else?" Varric asked.

"She had left?" Hawke asked.

Anders shook his head. "She was crying over a letter she was writing. I had never seen her cry. She's such a fierce, strong warrior. That was the only moment I had ever seen her show any sign of weakness. She noticed my presence and pretended she was fine, but I knew what I had seen. I said she had to tell me the truth and that she me owed that because of our relationship. 'What relationship?' she asked and that broke my heart. Maker, the conversation turned into an argument and then she told me…"

"She was married?" Hawke asked.

"Enough with the cliffhangers, Blondie. Just tell us already!" Varric complained.

"…she had come to me only because she was lonely and I was her friend. And she said she could never love me, because her heart belonged to another man."

"Who?" Varric asked.

"Alistair," the healer answered.

There was a sudden irksome squishing noise. Hawke had nervously started disemboweling the deep stalkers with her daggers.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked the three men who were staring at her.

"Are you jealous?" Anders asked.

"Of Alistair? Of course not!" she squeaked.

"You are," Varric insisted.

"I'm not. I even told him to go back to Ferelden," she said and they heard a harsh ripping sound as she started to roughly skin the deep stalkers.

"Maybe I should take care of that," Fenris said, taking the daggers from her.

Yes, she had told Alistair to open the letters from Elissa, to go back to Ferelden and to the Grey Wardens. He deserved better than to spend his days drunk in the Hanged Man. But then again she did not expect she would be thinking about him all the time from the moment she had left his room. Deep down she was hoping he would wait for her to come back.

* * *

Hawke and her companions had been walking in the Deep Roads for a few days now. They all had lost weight and were looking sick. Deep stalker meat, nugs and water were all they were living on. Their filth and stink could be detected from a mile away, but they were so used to it they didn't even notice it.

Sometimes small groups of darkspawn would cross their path. They managed to fight and win, but each time they sustained more injuries. Their underclothes and armors were falling apart, but there was nothing they could do about that. At some point they had run out of potions which meant they had to take longer breaks to recover after each fight.

Except for Varric – who would occasionally tell a story to which none of them would pay attention – they barely talked to each other anymore. They had lost track of time and would sleep whenever they felt too tired, which often was two or even three times a day. They were in constant pain from sleeping on the hard stone floor, but no one complained. More than once the person on guard duty fell asleep too and they awakened with deep stalkers nipping at them. No fingers were pointed, though. They all understood each other's exhaustion.

All these problems were causing them to advance much slower than Varric predicted when they had left the thaig and instead of one week, it would take them about ten days, maybe more, to reach the surface. Though they were not aware of dates, they had been back in the Deep Roads for six days now which meant it was the twentieth-forth day since the expedition had left Kirkwall.

* * *

**Twentieth-forth day.** Isabela banged on Alistair's door in the Hanged Man. "They arrived!" she shouted.

He rushed to answer the door. "They're back? Are you sure?" he asked excitedly.

"Yes. They were spotted on the road and should be in the city any minute now. Everybody is going to Hightown to meet them and find out how the expedition went, who died, who survived, what they found down there and stuff like that. Are you coming?" the pirate said.

"Yes," Alistair answered with a blissful glint in his eyes. He got a nicely wrapped package from his stand and a card he had written and darted out of his room.

"What's that?" Isabela pointed at the package.

"It's something I got for Hawke," he answered.

"Oh, you're in love with her," she said, dragging the words mockingly.

He shook his head.

"You've been pestering me with questions about her almost every night since she left. Of course you love her. You're like a puppy, Alistair. You spend one night with a woman and you fall for her," she teased.

"I certainly did not fall for you," he replied.

"Touché! Go on ahead. I'll go get the others," she dismissed him.

On his way to Hightown, Alistair stopped by the market and bought a white rose which he put over the package along with his card.

Minutes later, Isabela, Aveline, Merrill, Bethany, Leandra and Garrus joined the warrior in the square in Hightown. With anxious looks on their faces they watched as the adventurers approached. Quickly the place was taken by the joy of wives reuniting with their husbands and mothers with their sons. There was no sign of Hawke and her companions.

"Bodahn! Hey, Bodahn!" Alistair called.

"Messere Alistair! It's good to see you!" Bodahn greeted him as he came over.

"Enchantment?" Sandal offered joyfully.

"Where is Hawke, Bodahn?" the warrior asked, sounding anxious.

"Ah, such a nice lady! She saved me and my boy th–"

"Where is she?" he interrupted nervously.

"She didn't make it. I'm sorry, messere," the dwarf said sadly.

"Oh, Maker! Please! This can't be! She can't be dead!" Leandra sobbed.

"What about Varric? Fenris? Anders?" Isabela asked Bodahn.

The dwarf shook his head dolefully.

Bethany hugged her mother and they cried on each other's shoulder while Isabela turned to comfort Merrill.

With tears welling up in his eyes, Alistair left the square. He was holding the gift her had gotten her so tightly in his hands he was ruining the wrapping. His first thought was of going to the Chantry, but he dismissed it right away. There was no point. He wouldn't say another prayer to the Maker that kept abandoning him and ignoring his pleas. At the Hanged Man he would suffer with all the memories from her and it was the very place where she had said many times he shouldn't be, but at least there he could drink until he forgot this horrible day. There was nowhere else in Kirkwall he could go for comfort. He had no friends there. Tonight he would drink himself to sleep. Tomorrow he would take a ship back to Ferelden.

Aveline went over to Merrill and Isabela. "Take Bethany and Leandra home and stay there with them. I need to check out some facts here and I'll stop by later to tell you what I found out."

The elf and the pirate nodded and left with Hawke's family.

"Bodahn, I'm Aveline Vallen, Captain of the Guard. Would you care to answer some questions?" the red-haired woman asked.

"Sure, Captain," the dwarf replied.

"The people who were with Hawke – Varric, Anders and Fenris – are they all dead?"

"Yes. I'm sorry."

"Anyone else died down there?"

"No. Just them."

"Are you telling me that the four most capable fighters on the expedition were the only ones who died?"

"Yes. It is such a shame."

"Have you seen them get killed?"

"No, I didn't."

"Have you seen their bodies?"

"Can't say I did. No."

"Who told you they were dead?"

"Messere Bartrand Tethras."

"Where is he?"

"He said he couldn't stay. He had pressing business elsewhere. When we were getting close to Kirkwall he took another route."

"Do you know where he has gone?"

"I don't know, messere. I'm sorry."

"Where are their belongings?"

The dwarf pointed to four rucksacks on the back of an oxcart.

"Thank you, Bodahn."

The Captain went through their stuff and was somewhat relieved that their weapons and potions were not there. She talked to other hirelings and none had seen them die or their bodies. They could still be alive. She went straight to Gamlen's to tell the others her findings.

After talking to Aveline, Isabela went to the Hanged Man to tell Alistair that Hawke may not be dead. She found him passed out on the table, his head over the wrapped package and a white rose squished in his hand. It would be a waste of time trying to talk to him in that situation, so she decided to leave it to the next day.

* * *

**Twentieth-eighth day.** Hawke and her friends woke up to follow the same ritual they were used to by now – hunt a couple of nugs or deep stalkers, bleed, skin, disembowel and cook them, eat and then walk until they felt hungry or sleepy again. The time it took to prepare their food was what delayed them most.

After walking for about two hours they started feeling a cool breeze. It was a wonderful change from the heat of that lava-filled place and it also meant they would be on the surface any minute now.

With eager, hurried steps they reached the exit. They were thankful for the pouring rain that welcomed them outside. Excitedly Hawke stripped off and wearing only her smallclothes she did a few cartwheels before throwing herself on the grass and letting the rain wash her. Anders and Varric laughed and followed her lead. Only in their smalls they lay down with her, the dwarf on her right and the mage on her left.

She enjoyed the rain for some time until she noticed the broody elf was nowhere to be seen. Getting up she looked around and found Fenris a few yards from them, sitting on the grass, in his armor and with his eyes downcast. She went over to him and reached a hand to help him up.

"Are we leaving?" he asked, taking her hand.

"Not right now. Don't you want to wash from all this grime and sweat? You should, you know," she said.

"I'm not going to –"

She had a good guess on what he was about to say. "Take off just you armor, then," she interrupted him.

He nodded, but before he could do it she was already doing it for him and with such ease that it got him wondering if she had been watching him every time he had gotten out of his armor to sleep during these past days.

The cool water falling on his skin was really pleasing after all this time underground. He took deep breaths as he enjoyed the feeling of having it wash his bare chest and back.

"Hawke!" He grasped her hands that were on the waistband of his leggings.

She looked at him like the cat that ate the canary. "What?" she asked.

He had been so entranced by her closeness, her lack of clothes and the rain, that he hadn't even noticed that she had already unbuttoned and removed his tunic. "I'm not going to stand here only in my smalls," he said.

"Why not? We all are," she replied.

"I'm not comfortable with this."

"Because of your makings?" she guessed.

"Yes," he uttered.

"Don't be. They are beautiful," she said, giving him a kind smile.

"You think they are beautiful? They caused me nothing but pain and suffering. They made me a living weapon and brought death to more people than you can imagine. Because of them I lost my memories. They are the monstrous work of a deranged magister and a constant reminder of the lifetime I spent as his slave," he lashed out, raising his voice more with each word.

Hawke pulled her hands from him abruptly. Now she had done it. She had ruined any chance of being friends with that elf. And during the expedition she had managed to break so many barriers between them… She thought she had started to understand him, but apparently she hadn't.

"I'm sorry, Fenris. I'm so sorry," she apologized, looking utterly distressed and turned away from him.

The elf regretted the way he had talked to her. The best thing that had happened to him in that expedition was how the two of them had gotten closer and how she did not avoid touching him anymore and now he had destroyed it all.

"Hawke!" he called, going after her.

When he grabbed her wrist to make her turn back to him, he was thrown on the ground. He blinked a few times, still a little confused from the mind blast that had hit him. He looked up to see Bianca aimed at him and the abomination right behind Varric.

"One minute she's undressing you, the other you're yelling at her? What's wrong with you, elf?" the dwarf asked angrily.

"Mongrel," the mage snorted.

Fenris' markings flared but Varric did not budge.

"I'm keeping Bianca aimed at your face until you calm down," the dwarf said, his tone menacing.

If Varric and Anders weren't only in their smalls Fenris would probably have felt more intimidated by their threat, but nevertheless it was best to comply and he let his markings fade.

"Let him go, Varric. Fenris and I don't get along, but he wouldn't hurt me. I'm the one who can't be near him without hurting him," Hawke said, disheartened.

Fenris saw in her now indifferent eyes that she had given up on him.


	19. All Things Must Pass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke arrives in Kirkwall to some bad news.

Although at first Hawke, Fenris, Varric and Anders were thrilled about the rain, it hadn't stop since they had left the Deep Roads and now it was getting on their nerves.

They finally found a cave where they could spend the night and the mage lit up a fire for them to get warm and cook a hare Varric had shot earlier. After dinner, Hawke, Anders and the dwarf put their clothes and armors to dry by the fire and lay down only on their undergarments to sleep. Still uncomfortable in getting that much naked in front of the others, Fenris kept his soaked leggings on which made for a much more difficult and uncomfortable slumber.

The night was cold and the elf noticed Hawke was shivering. When he had had trouble falling asleep because of the raw red lyrium veins on the walls of the thaig, she had kindly helped him. Now he wanted to do the same for her, but after he had snapped at her earlier, they had not exchanged another word and she hadn't even spared a glance on his direction.

"Are you cold?" Anders asked her.

"Yes. Are you?" she replied.

"Come here," the healer said.

Scowling, Fenris watched as she snuggled with the mage and soon they were both sleeping. The abomination had a pleased smile on his lips, which made the elf hate him even more.

 **Twentieth-ninth day.** Fenris woke up before the others and snarled when he saw Varric had joined Hawke and Anders during the night and she was practically spooning the dwarf. Irritated, he left the cave to hunt for breakfast and wished, for his own sanity, that when he returned she would have her clothes on and no more naked men all over her.

The day transpired uneventfully. Again it rained the whole time. Again they sought shelter in a cave in the evening. Again Anders, Hawke and Varric slept on their underclothes and cuddling each other. Again that bothered the elf deeply.

 **Thirtieth day.** They couldn't believe they were going to sleep on a real bed tonight. Hawke was so happy she couldn't stop giggling at the sight of the old inn they had stayed on the first night of the expedition.

They rented one of the rooms with two bunk beds and sat to have dinner with the owners. It was soup and Varric was making a complete mess. He and Anders had fairly grown beards by now and the previously beardless dwarf was having a hard time keeping the soup out of it. Not to mention the incessant scratching.

"Having trouble with you beard, Varric?" Hawke chuckled. "Aren't all dwarves used to having them?"

"I'm not exactly a model dwarf, Hawke. Bartrand will pay for abandoning me without a razor," Varric grumbled. "Where's you beard, elf?"

"Elves don't grow beards," the warrior replied.

"I thought you were shaving with that gigantic sword of yours."

Fenris scoffed out of habit. He was actually pleased that someone had finally talked to him. Since the day he had yelled at Hawke they had been giving him the silent treatment.

Right after dinner the four worn out companions went to bed. Hawke spared a glance at the calendar over the counter to find out which day it was. Firstfall 4th. Her birthday. She smiled and got into their room.

 **Thirtieth-first day.** The sun had already set by the time they arrived in Kirkwall. Varric was in charge of finding buyers for the relics they had collected so they stopped at the Hanged Man to drop them off in his room. Hawke's eyes scanned the tavern, but there was no sign of Alistair or Isabela.

She hurriedly emptied her pouch and pockets on the dwarf's table and with affectionate hugs she bid him and the mage goodbye.

"Thank you," she said drily to Fenris and gave him a nod.

Hawke rushed down the stairs. "Norah! Norah, is Alistair still here?" she asked the waitress, a sparkle of hope in her eyes.

"No. It's been some time since he checked out," the woman answered.

Hawke swallowed hard. "Did he leave me anything? A letter? A note, perhaps?"

"No, dear. Nothing," Norah replied.

"What about an address? Did he at least say to which city he was going?"

The waitress shook her head.

Hawke's heart sunk. "Thanks," the rogue said bitterly and got out of the tavern crestfallen.

It would have been selfish to ask him to wait for her. She had done the right thing, but if he had waited… She wished she'd had the same effect on him that he'd had on her, but apparently she hadn't. What was she thinking anyway? Anders said Elissa was still in love with him. The fucking Hero of Ferelden and Warden Commander! Of course Hawke – a sword-for-hire and a refugee – wouldn't hold a candle to her. The minute Alistair read the first letter he must have ran back to Ferelden, to Elissa.

Hawke was feeling heartbroken, but at least she would reunite with her family now and bring them good news – not only she was alive, but they're situation wouldn't be so dire anymore.

Any solace she might have found in the prospects of that reunion were crushed, though, the instant she opened the door to her uncle's hovel. "Fuck! What's going on?"

"Mistress Bethany is being taken to the Circle of Magi in the Gallows," Knight-Captain Cullen informed her.

"Over my dead body!" Hawke replied, unsheathing her daggers.

Cullen's hand went to the hilt of his sword.

"Stop!" Bethany yelled and turned to her elder sister. "It's done! Don't make this worse!"

Leandra crumbled on the floor in despair and as Hawke tended to her, Bethany left with Cullen.

"It's your fault! You should have taken her with you," her mother cried. "Instead you had her going to Darktown, taking care of that blighted clinic. Someone must have told the templars. Oh, Maker, please help us."

Hawke felt tears burning in her eyes. When she had left Bethany behind she thought she was protecting her, but she had actually doomed her. "I'm sorry, mother. I'm so sorry. I'll get her back. I swear," she promised.

During the night Leandra's laments filled their bedroom, fueling Hawke's guilt and frustration and keeping her awake. She was feeling her stomach turning and a tightening in her chest. All the muscles in her body were hurting and there was a throbbing pain in her head but none of it was from the exhausted, weakened condition in which she had returned from the Deep Roads. All her pain was from the familiar weight of failure falling once again over her shoulders. If she could she would go to the Gallows immediately, but at that late hour she wouldn't be able to get inside, not without being arrested for trespassing at least.

She had invested all her coin and risked everything to go on that blighted expedition and for what? To be betrayed and left to die by her partner and then come back against all odds only to find out that her sister was being locked away in the Circle and the man she wanted to be with had abandoned her. Why did everything have to go wrong all at once and there was never time for her to pick up the pieces?

* * *

"I know the templars give _special treatment_ to former apostates. You think you have to break them," Hawke said angrily, almost screaming to be heard since she was out in the pouring rain while the Knight-Captain stood impassively in front of her, covered by a marquee.

"Apostates are even more dangerous than the mages that come as children, serah. We do what we have to," Cullen replied.

"Because they've tasted freedom? This is disgusting, Knight-Captain. There are more tranquil here every day. I can't stand anything like that happening to my sister," she said.

"I was at the Circle Tower in Ferelden during the Blight. I saw firsthand how templars' trust and leniency can be rewarded. I still have nightmares of Uldred's depravities."

"Not all mages are like that."

"True. Not every mage gives in to temptation, but none are ever free of it. At any time any mage could become a monster, from the lowest apprentice to the most seasoned enchanters. Mages cannot be treated like people. They are not like you and me. They are weapons. They ha–"

"Don't waste your breath, Knight-Captain. There's nothing you could say that would convince me that my sister is a monster and doesn't deserve to be treated like a person. Don't you have any family? How would you feel if they were taken from you?"

"Serah Hawke, I could have taken you and your mother in for harboring an apostate. However you've helped the Order before, so I overlooked it, but I –"

"I can't leave. Not until I'm sure she'll be safe. I need your word that she won't be made tranquil."

"I can't promise this. You have to understand. There are rules that if she breaks she'll be punished accordingly."

Hawke felt like she was going to be sick. Her father had done all he could to keep Bethany free from the Circle and she had promised him she would do the same, yet she had failed him again and now her sister could have a faith worse than death. "You must know there are men within your Order that won't hesitate in punishing and torturing mages, and making them tranquil just out of suspicions of blood magic and possession."

"It is not your place to discuss this, serah. If you don't leave I'll have you escorted out."

"I need to be sure my sister will be safe. I can't just abandon her," she said. Though she had been making a huge effort to hold back, a single tear insisted in rolling down her cheek and she was thankful for the rain that would disguise it. She had never felt so impotent and defeated, but she didn't want Cullen to see it.

Nevertheless, the templar's expression softened. Had he noticed?

"I can give you news on her. Every day if you'd like to. Come by when we're locking the gates, at 6p.m.," he said, offering her the only help he could give without breaking any rules.

"News? So when she's made tranquil I'll be the first to know? To the void with this," she growled, turning on her heels and leaving.

She went straight to Darktown to tell Anders about what had happened and ask him to get in touch with his friends in the Mage Underground and see if they could get Bethany out. Since his clinic was crawling with sick people, she didn't linger and left him to his work. Before heading to the Hanged Man for lunch, she stopped by at Gamlen's to put on some dry clothes.

* * *

"Nice dress," Hawke remarked at the sight of Isabela in a short dark blue silk gown that was obviously a size too small for her.

"Oh! Shit! Maker, I'm sorry, Hawke. This dress… Alistair bought it for you, but we thought you were dead. He left it here when he took off."

"And you took it? Fuck, Isabela! Weren't you going to say anything?"

"I'm sorry, sweet thing. I'll give it back to you. And there is a note…"

"There is?" Hawke's eyes lightened up.

"Yes. It's here somewhere… let me see, was it in my pouch? This one, maybe? No. This? No, not it… Ah! No. Balls! Oh, I remember! It's in my room. Wait here while I get it."

However Hawke was too anxious to just wait there and went after the pirate.

"Here," Rivaini grinned, handing Hawke a piece of vellum.

_I bought this dress for you. Thanks for all the sex._

_I love you._

_Alistair Warden_

"Alistair _Warden_? Really, Isabela? Is this the best you can do?" Hawke asked, crumbling the note in her hand and throwing it at the pirate.

"You didn't give me much time, did you?" Isabela replied.

"Where's the real note?"

"Oh, here it is!" the pirate squeaked, retrieving something from the thrash.

"You threw it away?"

"No, of course not. Sometimes I store things in here…" she noticed Hawke clenching her fists. "Fine! I wrote my shopping list on the back. When I got back from the market I threw it out. I forgot it was his note."

Hawke took the vellum from her.

"Sorry! I'm sorry," she yelled as Hawke stormed out of her room.

A few minutes later Isabela showed up downstairs with the blue dress folded in her hands. "He waited for you, you know," she told Hawke. "When the expedition arrived and you didn't he looked so… lost. Aveline interrogated the hirelings about what had happened down there and she suspected you were still alive. I was going to tell him that, but he left before I had the chance."

"Did he say where he was going?"

"No, sweet thing."

Hawke lowered her eyes to read his note for the hundredth time.

_If you're planning to get blood stains on this one too, I'd like to come along. I hope you'll have me._

_I missed you._

_Alistair_

"I'm sure he had much more planned to say to you in person. You should've seen how happy he looked when he thought you were back," Isabela tried to comfort her.

"I really liked him…"

"Norah, bring us some brandy over here," Isabela called and looked at Hawke who sighed sadly and had her eyes downcast and her shoulders slumped. "The whole bottle," the pirate shouted.

* * *

Two weeks had passed since Bethany had been locked up in the Circle. The Mage Underground had managed to get one message through to her and Anders had just got word of her answer, so he went over to Gamlen's looking for Hawke.

"Thank the Maker you are here," Leandra said as she opened the door for him.

"Why? Is something wrong?" Anders asked, worried.

"It's Marian. She is not eating and she had already lost so much weight in the expedition. And the incessant pacing around the house at night… Maker help me, but while she is wasting time, Bethany is still in the Gallows. She said you were helping but she has to do something! She has to do more than wait for you. I tried talking to her but she won't listen. She's even more short-tempered than usual."

"Where is she?"

"She left three nights ago and rented a room at the Hanged Man. I wonder if she's been drinking. How is she going to help Bethany like that? If only Malcolm were here… He would never have let my baby girl be taken."

"I'll go talk to her," Anders said and left the house in a rush, going straight to the tavern.

"Varric, where's Hawke?" he asked.

"At home, probably," the dwarf answered.

"Her mother said she rented a room here."

"If she had, don't you think I'd know?"

"Norah!" the healer called.

"Do you doubt me, Blondie?"

The mage ignored him. "Norah, is Hawke here?" he asked when the waitress came over.

"In her room at the end of the hall. Since she rented it, I don't think she set foot outside," the woman answered.

"Why didn't you tell me she was staying here?" the dwarf looked at Norah reprovingly as if she had done something wrong.

"You're her friend. I thought you knew!" she replied.

Varric shook his head, looking disappointedly at her but she just shrugged and went back to work.

"I'm glad she's staying here. Leandra is putting a lot of pressure on her over Bethany being taken to the Circle," the mage said as they made way to her room. "Oh, no!" he exclaimed as they reached the door, "Forget I said that."

"What? Is anything wrong?"

"This was Alistair's room," Anders replied and knocked on the door.

 _"I don't want cleaning, Norah. Just bring me another bottle of whiskey,"_ she shouted from the inside.

"Hawke, I need to talk to you," the mage said.

_"Go away."_

"I have news on Bethany," he added.

They heard a few light steps and then the door was being unlocked.

Hawke was looking sick, so thin and pale she was, and the fact that she was in her pajamas in the middle of the afternoon wasn't helping.

"Are you drunk?" the healer asked, giving her a displeased look.

"No, not yet. But that is next on my to-do list. What about Bethany?" she cut to the chase.

"The Mage Underground got word from her today. She said that is too risky and she won't take their help to runaway," Anders said.

"Then I'll have to break her out," Hawke decided.

He couldn't avoid shooting a disdainful look in her direction. "Like this?"

"I thought that being away from mother I'd have a break from condescending eyes and judgmental tones, but apparently I was wrong," she retorted.

"Why did you take this room?" he asked.

"It was the only one available," she lied.

"I really doubt that," he replied.

"What do you want me to say, Anders? That I'm here because I'm some silly needy girl pining over a man I spent only one night with? That I'm here because of a memory, since I have nothing real to hold on to? Don't you think I know how ridiculous this is, how much of a loser it makes me look like? Why did you want to make me say it? Did it make you happy to hear it?" she snapped.

"I'm sorry, Hawke," the healer said, feeling ashamed. "I shouldn't ha–"

"I don't need your pity, mage," she interrupted.

"Hey, Blondie, let's go order Hawke here some food," the dwarf suggested already pushing Anders out of the room.

Once the men were out in the hall, Varric knocked on Isabela's door.

 _"What?"_ the pirate shouted from inside her room.

"Rivaini, Hawke's got a room here and she's a mess. Go cheer her up!" the dwarf said.

 _"I can't. I have company,"_ Isabela replied.

"You always have company. Just go. Now!" Varric insisted.

 _"Fine! I'm going,"_ the pirate agreed.

Varric went downstairs with Anders and as they waited for Corff by the counter the dwarf asked, annoyed, "so, Blondie, why did you talk to Hawke like that? Don't you think she has taken enough crap in the past few days?"

"I… I shouldn't have," the mage looked down.

"No, you shouldn't. You're jealous because she likes someone else," the rogue remarked.

"Alistair is a drunk. He's not good enough for her," Anders replied.

"Says the possessed mage," the dwarf scoffed.

"All that sadness and frustration is a disease, you know. She can't stay there. It's not going to do her any good."

When they went back to Hawke's room bringing some stew for her to eat, she asked Varric to gather all their companions as soon as possible so they could help her figure out what to do about Bethany's situation. If something were to happen to her sister in the Circle… no, she could not live with that guilt.

At dinnertime everyone was in Varric's room at the tavern. "We have to come up with a plan to get Bethany out of the Gallows," Hawke started.

"What about the Mage Underground?" Merrill asked.

"Bethany doesn't want their help. She says running away is too risky and that she'll stay there," Anders answered.

"Thank the Maker for that. If she escapes they'll come after you. Your family will have to leave Kirkwall, Hawke. You'll be on the run again," Aveline uttered.

"Bethany doesn't know what she's saying. She's in more danger in there than she'll ever be anywhere else. The things they do with captured apostates… We cannot leave her there," the healer said.

"What if they make her tranquil? We have to save her," Merrill added, voicing what the others were thinking but had been avoiding saying.

"We could storm the Gallows. With a clever plan and a few poisonous traps I bet we could take down the entire templar order," the dwarf suggested, but not really meaning it.

"It could be done. Man-hands is Captain. If she brings the guard to help us…" Isabela teased.

"You might be joking about it now, but this has to happen one day. The oppression mages suf–" Anders started.

"I can't believe we are even discussing this! This is not a real option," Aveline protested.

True. And Hawke would never ask of her companions to do something like that. It would be suicide. And probably trigger a war. "We're just brainstorming, Aveline. Of course we're not assaulting the Gallows."

"Why do you want to break her out? Did you not hear what the abomination said? Bethany doesn't want to be rescued. She is where she belongs," Fenris said and his casual tone and expressionless face made Hawke want to snap his neck.

"Please, leave, Fenris. I don't even know why you are here in the first place. You've always made it very clear how much you hate mages and no matter what I do or say I can't get nothing but despisal from you," Hawke said averting the elf's unemotional eyes or she might really try to kill him.

He got up abruptly, making his chair tip over and stalked out of the tavern.

"I'm sorry, Hawke. You said to get everyone and I didn't think…" the dwarf apologized.

"It's okay, Varric. It's taken care of," she said and then turned to her remaining companions. "Any other ideas? Where no one might end up dead, preferably."

"You could offer the Knight-Captain a bribe to get her out. As soon as I finish selling the stuff we brought from the thaig you'll have a lot of coin to spare," Varric said.

"I don't think he would take a bribe," Aveline said.

"I'm sure he wouldn't. I knew him back in Ferelden's Circle. He always plays by the rules," Anders remarked.

"Blackmail?" Isabela suggested.

"I have nothing on him," Hawke dismissed it.

"Not a problem. You will have. I'll put some people on his tail. If he has something to hide – and everybody does – they'll find out," the dwarf said.

"What if you make friends with him?" Merrill suggested with her sweet little voice.

Everyone stared at her with confused looks on their faces.

"If he is your friend, all you have to do is ask him to look out for your sister. And then he will. That's what friends do. They help each other. Right?" the Dalish elf explained.

The confused looks turned into wondering ones.

"That is brilliant, Merrill!" Hawke exclaimed.

* * *

The next day Hawke went to the Gallows to put Merrill's plan to work.

"Good evening, Knight-Captain. I decided to take up on your offer for news. How's Bethany?"

"Serah Hawke, it's good to see you. Your sister is fine. She's been adapting well to the life in the Circle."

Hawke had to refrain herself from ranting about how no one should have to adapt to the lack of freedom. "That's nice," she said instead. "How long have you been in Kirkwall, Knight-Captain?"

"About four months," he answered.

"And you're already second in command? You must be a very talented templar." It took her a great deal of concentration to say this without scoffing.

"Knight-Commander Meredith needed someone experienced in recognizing and dealing with abominations and blood mages to aid her in running Kirkwall's Circle. Unfortunately, like most templars in Ferelden's Circle, I have a lot of experience with that. But unlike most of them, I was willing to move here. Knight-Commander Greagoir promoted me to Knight-Captain right before he transferred me," he explained.

"I had a cousin in the Circle there. Solona," she said.

"Solona Amell?"

"Did you know her?"

"I did. She was a special woman. Never met her like again. I'm sorry for your loss."

By the sadness in his eyes it was his loss more than Hawke's. Maybe that could be explored to Bethany's benefit. "Thank you, but I never actually met her. How was she?"

"She was very brave and talented," he smiled slyly. "When the order was restored at the tower, the Grey Wardens invoked an old treaty they had with the Circle for aid during the Blight. First Enchanter Irving honored the agreement by sending the most powerful and skilled mages to fight the darkspawn invasion alongside the Wardens in Denerim. Very few survived." He looked down.

"It seems like you were very fond of her," Hawke smiled kindly.

"Templars are not allowed to pursue relationships with mages."

"That fond, huh?" she remarked, making him blush. "Can I call you Cullen?"

"Uh… Yes, serah."

"So, _Cullen_ , please, drop the 'serah'. Just Hawke."

They talked for a while longer and then Hawke went back to the Hanged Man to have dinner with Varric.

"How did it go with the Knight-Captain?" the dwarf asked her.

"Not bad," she answered.

"Blondie thinks you're sick. He's worried about you."

"I'm not. Just tired, I think."

"I'm sorry your kingling left."

"Me too."

"Maybe it's not a good idea to stay in his old room."

"No, it's not. I feel like such a loser. When did I become so needy?"

"Blondie likes you, you know."

"I was half-naked when he threw me out of his bed. It was humiliating to say the least."

"You'll find someone."

Her eyes turned sad. "I had found someone already. It was Alistair. And I lost him."


	20. I Wanna Be Your Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke starts to see Cullen under a different light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anders and Cullen know each other from Ferelden's Circle, so I made up a reason for Cullen not trying to lock the healer up in the Gallows. And if you don't bring the mage along when you go to the Gallows or to Wilmod's Camp during "Enemies among us" you can finish Act 1 without the two men ever running into each other. In Kirkwall, I mean. This is the current situation here.

Anders entrusted Varric with the tasks of both making sure Hawke was eating and getting her to move out of that room. The dwarf fulfilled both, however the mage was not pleased to find out that when she had finally left Alistair's old room, she had gone back to Gamlen's.

"Varric, why did you let her go to her uncle's house? Did I not tell you how her mother is blaming her for what happened to Bethany. How could this be of help?"

"You didn't want her to stay here, Blondie. She has nowhere else to go."

Anders and Varric just had to be good friends for her and hope for the best now, since they could not intrude on her relationship with her mother.

* * *

After a whole day of Leandra nagging around her, Hawke was almost looking forward to her meeting with Cullen in the Gallows.

"Hawke, is something wrong?" the Knight-Captain asked as soon as she arrived, instantly noticing that her smile was not meeting her eyes.

It surprised her that he would observe that. "No, I'm okay." _Except for the fact that you imprisoned my sister and I can't get her out._

"Your sister is fine," he said.

 _As far as fine can go when you're locked up._ "I'm glad to hear it," she replied insincerely.

"You don't look glad at all," he remarked.

She took a deep breath and looked into his eyes. "That day you took her, I had just arrived from the Deep Roads… Your timing was… cruel," she gave up pretending she was not hurting.

She thought he would look away, but he kept his gaze steady on hers. "I could try to excuse myself saying I was following orders or just doing my job, but I don't think that would be fair to you. The truth is that I believe in the Circle and in the Templar Order. Mages need guidance and training, which only the Circle can properly provide and the templars keep them safe while also protecting society against them."

Hawke wondered about that for a moment. It was not unreasonable but definitely not enough to convince her. The reality wasn't so plain and simple like his words. Everybody knew there was a lot of abuse in the Circle.

"Bethany received training from father. She learned how to control her powers and she would never fall prey to demons or resort to blood magic. She was well taught, yet she was not given the option to be free. When you heard she was a mage you came for her as you would've done with a maleficar," she pointed out, though she was exaggerating a little for emphasis. If he had thought her sister was a maleficar he would never have taken her in alive.

"All mages are susceptible to temptation. All of them can become abominations in a fit of a whim," he argued.

"Do you think Solona would do that?" she questioned cunningly, knowing that to be his weakness.

He finally broke eye contact, looking down. "…no, I don't. In the Tower of Magi many mages resisted when Uldred…" he raked his fingers through his short curly hair and sighed heavily.

"I didn't mean to make you remember that. It must not have been easy."

"I can't forget it. But I reckon that Solona, Wynne, Kinnon, First-Enchanter Irving, Petra, Keili and… actually half or maybe even more of the mages there did not give in to Uldred's depravities. Many were killed fighting him."

"See? Not all mages are willing to consort with demons. There's fault on both sides. The Templar Order would benefit more trying to live in peace with the mages instead of outright antagonizing them."

"I guess… you're right. Perhaps mages need better education as to why the Chantry function as it does. Perhaps the templars should not be taught to see them as enemies. I will look into it."

The rogue gave him a genuine smile this time and he smiled back at her. A few drops of water fell upon her and she looked up at the cloudy sky. "It was nice talking to you, Cullen. I'd better go before it starts pouring."

He impulsively slipped his arm through the bars of the locked gate between them and grabbed her hand. "I see you tomorrow, I hope," he said expectantly and squeezed her hand before letting her go.

"Sure," she replied already rushing to the boats.

Still feeling her hand tingling from his touch and surprised at herself for finding his gesture pleasant rather than upsetting, Hawke reckoned that making friends with him probably wouldn't be half as awful as she had imagined it would.

* * *

The rogue and the templar had been meeting almost every evening for the past thirty days now. She would only skip their date when the rain was too heavy and then she would find herself missing their time together. They always talked through the bars of the locked gate to the Gallows, her on the outside and him on the inside. With each encounter they talked less and less about mages and templars and more about Ferelden, about blades and fighting techniques and about their likes and dislikes.

"Hawke! It's been three days. I thought you weren't going to come anymore," he said, smiling brightly as he saw her approaching.

It's been raining a lot and since you can't invite me in…" she teased.

"I'm sorry. I should have thought of a better arrangement."

"Soon it'll be snowing," she added.

"Maybe we could start meeting at the Chantry for the 7pm service."

 _And sit through a whole hour of prayer every day? No, thank you!_ Hawke looked almost desperate, trying to come up with an excuse to reject his proposal without revealing her lack of faith in the Maker. That was not something she was eager to discuss with a templar and until now she had successfully avoided that subject.

"Is anything wrong? You do not like going to the Chantry?" he asked, noticing her hesitation. "Your sister is very devout. I thought you'd be too."

"I'm busy at 7. How about I keep coming here at 6 and when the weather is bad and I don't show up we meet somewhere else after the service?"

"All right. Where?"

"The Drowned Mermaid, perhaps?" she said, hastily suggesting a tavern in the Docks. She didn't want to go to the Hanged Man and risk meeting one of her companions there. Isabela would hit on him lewdly, Varric would rip him off on the cards, Anders would probably pull him into an argument that had no possible way of ending well, Aveline would have the most boring conversation ever about templars interfering with the duties of the Guard and none of that would be of help on her plan of being friends with him.

"The tavern?"

"Do you know any other Drowned Mermaid?" she asked wryly.

"No. It's just that… I didn't think you would want to go out with a templar."

"And I don't. I'm not asking a templar out. I'm asking you – Cullen."

It was only after the words were out of her mouth that she realized what she had said and done. _Did I just asked him out and flirt with him? Shit! I did. I invited the Knight-Captain of the templars on a date. The templar who threw my sister in the Gallows! Next time I meet Anders, Justice will probably have me killed,_ she thought. "I mean if it rains and I can't make it here, we could meet at the tavern. Or it could be at the Chantry. You know what, the Chantry is fine," she rambled.

But all he had heard was that she wanted to go out with him. "It really seems like it's going to rain tomorrow and the tavern is closer to your place than the Chantry. Let's go there," he said.

"…Tomorrow?" Though she wanted to go out with him it felt like she was betraying her sister. At first when she started seeing him it was to pull him onto a fake relationship for Bethany's sake and Hawke was totally fine with that. But now that she was beginning to truly enjoy his company, she felt bad and guilty about it. Hell, what a mess she was!

"Yes. Can I pick you up at 8?" he asked.

"I… uh… there's no need," she staggered. "I can go by myself."

"Please, Hawke, I insist. I don't think it's safe for a lady to walk alone after dark in Kirkwall," he explained.

"Alright, I guess… It's very nice of you to bother," she smiled, embarrassed. _So it's a date._

* * *

"I hope you know what you're doing, Hawke. Blondie will not want to follow you around anymore. We will lose him over this."

"I have to think of my sister first, Varric."

"Is that the only reason why you're going out with the Knight-Captain?"

 _No._ "Yes! Of course it is!"

"I wish you'd be this bad at bluffing when we play cards. I'd win every time."

"Fine, dwarf!" she conceded, upset over being caught. "He's not as bad as I thought he would be."

"I thought so."

* * *

The silk dress Alistair had bought Hawke was by far the best piece of clothing she had in her wardrobe, but wearing it to go out with another man did not feel right, so she put on the only other dress she had. After having washed it three times, there was no sign of blood on it anymore, though now it was looking a bit battered. She put on black boots that went mid-way up her calf, grabbed a black overcoat and left to wait for Cullen outside her uncle's house.

As she saw him coming she could not believe that was the same man she had been talking to almost every day in the Gallows. It was the first time she saw him without his templar armor and she certainly enjoyed the view. His plain white shirt was clinging slightly to his muscles and she caught herself staring at his chest as he approached.

"I'm guessing you are not out here because you're eager to see me," he said.

She looked away, biting her lower lip. "Uh… the last time you came here was to take my sister away from us. I don't think mother would li–"

"I understand. Shall we go?" _Maybe this was not a good idea,_ he thought.

The journey to the docks seemed endless as an awkward silence stretched between them. When they finally reached the tavern, Hawke hastily ordered two shots of rum so they could loosen up a bit.

"Are you uncomfortable, Hawke, going out with me?"

She downed her shot. "Honestly? Yes. Very."

His shot was untouched in front of him, so she took it and drank it too. "I thought we were friends, but I don't think I can get over the fact that you locked my sister up. If something happens to her…"

He reached over the table and held her right hand. "I care about you a great deal, Hawke. I told you so much about my life already. You should know by now that I'm not a cold-hearted man. I won't let Bethany be made tranquil. You have my word."

Her expression softened by the relief his words brought her, but there was still some uncertainty in her eyes.

He held both her hands in his and looked deep into her eyes, reassuringly. "I'd never promise you that without meaning it. You can trust me."

Hawke made a mental note to thank Merrill later. That elf was a genius!

Beaming at him she raised an eyebrow, "And you wouldn't say that just to get in my pants, would you?" She knew for a fact that her question would embarrass him. But since she was not feeling that much like a traitor anymore for going on a date with him, she might as well try and have a good time now.

He pulled his hands back, blushing furiously. "No, Hawke. Serah. I wouldn't. Never!" he mumbled nervously.

"You are one of the good guys, Cullen. I know you wouldn't do that. I was kidding," she chuckled.

He recomposed himself. "I know how difficult things are for Fereldans in this city. There's a lot of prejudice. We have to look out for each other."

"So you're doing favors for a lot of Ferelden refugees here?" she teased.

"It's not like that," his face reddened again.

She found his embarrassed, blushing face adorable. And how easily she could cause that amused her.

He cleared his throat and continued. "Though you never brought him to the Gallows with you, I know you count an apostate among your companions. You went to the Deep Roads together."

Shit! Despair took over her as she started pondering her options, her mind racing. Maybe she should try bribing him first and if it didn't work, like the others said it wouldn't, then she would… kill him? Could she just murder the Knight-Captain? Fuck, there had to be a better way. Should she rush to Darktown and defend Anders from the templars to her death?

He hurried to explain himself further, for the way her face was contorting with a mix of angst and fury was not a good sign. "Hawke, please, listen to me before you jump to conclusions. I know Anders from the Circle in Ferelden. The last time he escaped he became a Grey Warden and I respect the Order. I also know he's a healer and has a clinic in Darktown, where he treats the poor and the refugees without asking them anything in return. It's out of respect for the Grey Wardens and compassion for all the people that I know depend on him that I won't bring him in, nor will I tell the other templars about him. As long as no one else in the Order finds out, he's safe."

"Bethany was taking care of his clinic while we were away. Why didn't she deserve your trust?" she couldn't help but ask him.

"The order to bring you sister in came straight from Knight-Commander Meredith. Someone had told her about Bethany."

"Who?"

"I don't know. And I'm glad I don't, because if I knew I'd end up telling you and you'd take revenge on this person. No good would come from that."

Hawke believed he was telling the truth, after all he was always completely honest with her, but that didn't keep her mood from souring.

"I have to go, Cullen. Drinks are on me," she said, throwing some coins over the table, putting on her coat and leaving.

"I wish you wouldn't be so upset. Bethany is fine at the Circle," he said, catching up with her, already out of the tavern.

"Is she? She has no freedom. She's locked up in there. Do you think it's possible to be fine like that?"

"Hawke, please."

"Cullen, going to the Gallows to talk to you has been the highlight of my days. You're an admirable man… and very attractive," she took a deep breath and was about to continue when he grasped her shoulder, turned her around and shut her up with his mouth.

She looked at him, startled, but he had his eyes closed and his warm and demanding lips still upon hers. He curled his arm around her waist and his free hand went to the back of her head, holding her close to him.

She put both her hands against his chest, his hard, muscled chest… _No, you want to push him away not to feel him up. Focus, Marian!_ she said to herself and then she pushed him without much conviction.

"Don't fight me. Please," he muttered low and huskily against her mouth, tightening his grip around her waist and that was all it took to make her yield.

As her lips parted in acceptance his tongue eagerly slid into her mouth. He kissed her longingly and passionately, making her put her arms around his neck and press her body even more against his.

Some drunk patrons coming out of the tavern saw them and started whistling and catcalling. Cullen broke the kiss and gave them a dirty look.

"Shit, it's the Knight-Captain!" one of them said and they all hastily moved along shouting apologies.

Hawke took the opportunity to pull away from the templar and try to think straight in spite of being all flushed and bothered from their kiss. "Ahem. I had a lot more to say when you… interrupted me," she told him.

"I know. It's just that I could sense a 'but' coming and I couldn't let you say it."

She looked at him sadly. "I don't know if I can get past all this shit that happened to my sister."

"And you said it anyway," he let out a frustrated sigh. "Hawke, listen to me. I told you I was in love with Solona, but what you don't know is that she kissed me once and I just stood there. I didn't even react, because I couldn't get past the fact that she was a mage. I lost her. I let her go without ever telling her how I felt. I regret every day for –"

"Why are you telling me this?"

"I care about you a great deal, Hawke. I didn't think I'd ever be so lucky to find someone else I wanted to be with, but I did and I don't want to make the same mistake," he continued, looking deeply into her eyes. "If there's a chance, any chance that you might feel the same way about me I won't let you just walk away from me. And I think you do. I think you care about me too."

She didn't respond. Instead she stared pensively at a random spot on the ground, rubbing her own arms crossed over her chest. Why faking she was interested was much lighter in her conscience that actually feeling attracted to him? That was so twisted.

He watched her. That defensive posture was unsettling. She was going to back out, so he made another effort.

"I'm holding on to my promise that your sister won't be made tranquil and that I won't tell anyone about Anders," he said as he gently pulled her to him and embraced her. "I can't do more than that. I'm still the Knight-Captain. Can you accept that? Can you accept who I am?" he cupped her face as he spoke, his thumb softly stroking her cheek.

How could she deny him a chance? She had no problems accepting a blood mage, an abomination, a known raider…

She leaned slightly into his touch. "I want to, Cullen, but –"

"Please, Hawke, no 'but'," his plea came out barely audible.

"But I want to take it slow. Is that okay with you?"

He breathed out, relieved. "It's perfectly fine," he replied, a contented smile on his lips. "May I walk you home?"

"Sure," she answered.

As they took the stairs to Lowtown he held her hand. Hawke had never walked holding hands with anyone, not even with Arthur. It surprised her how that small gesture could make her feel so safe and cherished. She could easily get used to that.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" he asked when they reached her uncle's door.

"If it's not raining," she answered.

"If it is we'll meet at the tavern, right?" he said, raising a brow.

"What about taking it slow?"

"Taking it slow from here is fine, but I'm not taking any steps back," he said, pulling her into a blistering kiss that this time met no resistance whatsoever from her.

* * *

The next day Varric went over to Gamlen's and asked for Hawke's company while he ran some errands in Hightown. Having nothing better to do and actually glad she had an excuse to be out of her uncle's house, she left with him. As they walked she began telling him about her date with Cullen. When they were right in front of the old Amell Estate, he halted.

"What do you think? Want to live here?" he asked her.

"Live here? What are you talking about?" she gave him a confused look.

"I finally sold all the pieces we collected at the thaig. We're rich, Hawke. You have enough coin to buy back this house and another one like this if you want to."

She opened her mouth in shock. "Are you serious, dwarf?"

"Dead serious," he answered. "So, do you want it?"

That was too good to be true. Not only she would move up in the world, but she would be out of that Lowtown hovel she lived in and her mother would certainly be off her back, at least for a while.

"I do. Of course I do!" she readily replied.

"Wonderful! Don't worry. I'll take care of everything. You'll probably be able to move in by next week," he grinned widely.

"Why so excited, dwarf?" she frowned.

"I'm happy for you."

"You're getting a fee for this sale, aren't you?" she gave him an accusatory look.

"Hawke, you wound me. I am not!" he lied.

"I know you are and I won't buy it unless you get me a discount," she insisted.

"The price is excellent as it is. You won't find a better bargain in Hightown," he said, trying to close the deal.

"Hmm… No. Good luck selling a house full of slavers' rotting corpses," she refused, shrugging.

"Fine, Hawke," he snorted. "I'll get you a discount," he conceded, scowling.

After spending all day taking care of payments and paperwork for the ownership of the Amell Estate, Hawke went to see Cullen. She told him about her mother noble heritage, about how she had cleared the estate of slavers a few months ago and how she finally became the owner of the place.

"That's wonderul, Hawke. We should celebrate!" he proposed.

Yeah, right… she had already made plans with Varric for a celebration at the Hanged Man that very night. There was nothing about taking it slow if she was bringing Cullen as her date to a party with her friends only one day after sharing her first kiss with the templar. Also, she would put Merrill in danger unnecessarily.

"How about I settle in first and then we celebrate? Maybe dinner and a bottle of wine at my new home? Just the two of us. What do you think?"

"Sounds like a plan. When are you moving? I can help you out."

"Thanks, but all I have fits in one trunk. A small one."

"I can carry it for you."

She smiled. "That would be very nice. Thank you."

His courtesy was something new to her and she really appreciated it. It made her feel more like a normal woman. Her male friends were never like that with her.

After leaving the Gallows she went to meet her companions at the Hanged Man. They were all there except for Fenris who had not been invited. The first one she greeted was Garrus, who was finally back from the barracks with Aveline. She opened her arms to him and he jumped excitedly over her, throwing her on the ground and pinning her down while he happily licked her face.

After the dog had set her free, she sat down with her friends around the large table on Varric's room. There was an empty chair by the dwarf's side where usually Fenris would sit and Garrus skillfully climbed on it, claiming his place on the table. Then he muzzled Varric on the arm and pointed to the deck of cards. The dwarf complied and began dealing so they could play a hand of Wicked Grace.

"This dog scares me, you know," Anders said. "And not just because he's a warhound…" He turned to Hawke. "You should wash after he licks you. Dogs can carry a lot of diseases."

Ignoring reasonable advices was one of her favorite activities, so she just rolled her eyes at the healer's remark and began talking to Aveline.

During the whole night Hawke kept her drinking to a minimum. She was a talkative drunk and she didn't want to risk spilling the beans about her relationship with Cullen too soon. Thankfully the celebration didn't last much. Merrill fell asleep after two drinks, Aveline didn't stay long because she had to be up early the next day and Isabela went to get a drink from Corff and never came back – probably met someone more interesting along the way. When Garrus caught Varric cheating and started growling angrily at the dwarf, Hawke decided to call it a night.

"I'll walk you home," Anders offered, already following her out of the tavern.

"You know I still live right next to the Hanged Man, don't you? And Garrus is with me."

"It's just that… there is something I want to tell you."

"Okay, then. What is it?"

"Every day in my clinic, no matter how crowded it is or how busy I am, I keep looking at the door, hoping that you're going to come in and call me to go somewhere crazy and dangerous with you. I can't stop thinking about you, Hawke. I think I–"

"Anders, you're very kind and sweet and I really appreciate everything you do for me, but I'm seeing someone," she interrupted him before he could say something that would make this even harder.

"Are you? I didn't know. Who? It's not Fenris, is it? Please don't tell me it's that mongrel."

"No! Of course not! That elf hates me. And it's probably my fault, but… never mind. It's not him."

"Thank the Maker! Look, Hawke, I wish we could try again. I wish you could give me another chance. I'm really sorry for that day… for pushing you away like that."

She shook her head. "I'm sorry too, Anders," she said and without another word she got into her uncle's house.


	21. I Want You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the end of the year and Hawke and Cullen have some serious celebrating to do.

Leandra had tears of joy in her eyes as she enthusiastically hugged Hawke, saying how proud she was of her eldest daughter. That was a nice change in her mother's foul mood since Bethany had been taken to the Circle. And Hawke could really use a day being celebrated for her achievements instead of being constantly reminded of her failures.

The rogue handed her mother a pouch with a hundred sovereigns so the woman could take care of commissioning furniture and redecorating their estate. Being in charge of that made Leandra even happier and Hawke was utterly relieved for not being the one to do it. Choosing curtains and armchairs and china patterns wasn't for her. She would probably take the sturdiest pieces of furniture without even looking if they were pretty or even matched.

"We have to clean the estate first, mother. It's a real mess in there," Hawke said, pulling away of Leandra's embrace.

"Of course. And I have to take measurements to commission the furniture, curtains and carpets. I saw a stand on the market the other day with some beautiful silver candlesticks. We should get a few of those. Oh! We're going to need new linens. And the garden must be a mess! I'll get some seeds. Roses, maybe daisies… Should we grow some vegetables too, like we did in Lothering? I think it would be nice," her mother rambled excitedly.

Hawke had never seen Leandra this happy since Malcolm had passed away. "Alright. We can start doing all that tomorrow. I'll ask Varric to find some people to help us," the rogue said.

"Oh, I can't believe it! My childhood home, the Amell Estate, owned by my daughter," Leandra said proudly.

" _Hawke_  Estate," the rogue corrected with a smug smile on her face.

* * *

Before her evening meeting with Cullen in the Gallows, Hawke went over to Hightown to give Fenris the pay she had promised him in case the expedition was fruitful. She didn't want to see the elf, but she couldn't just drop a pouch of coins on his doorstep so she knocked on his door. There was no answer. She called his name. Still no answer. Maybe he didn't live there anymore. To make sure, she picked the lock and let herself in.

The mansion was dark and dirty as always. It was awfully cold in there. The hearth surely hadn't been lit in a long time. Seeing no sign of the elf anywhere, she kept advancing until she reached his room. She pushed the door open and found Fenris sitting on his bed, with his back against the headboard and a half-full bottle of wine in his hands.

"Why didn't you answer the door?" she asked.

"I don't know where the key is. When I heard it was you outside, I knew you would end up picking the lock."

"How long have you been locked up in here?"

"I'm not locked up. I use the windows."

"Right," Hawke said, looking around at the dusty windows. It didn't seem like anyone had touched them in quite some time. But that was not her problem. She had nothing to do with that elf anymore. Their business was done.

She gave him a small pouch full of coins. "This is your cut from the expedition. Thank you for your help. And sorry for putting you through all that," she said mechanically and turned to leave.

"Hawke, wait! I have been meaning to tell you… something happened to me down there," he said, putting the bottle on the floor and getting up on his feet.

"And what is that?" she asked impatiently, waging that no matter what he had to say it would certainly be some complaint about her or something she did.

But he didn't say anything, he just phased like she had never seen him do before. There was no part of him that looked even remotely solid. There was only a bright blue light outlining his body. He was like a… ghost. A lyrium ghost.  _This is freaking awesome!_  she thought.  _The veins of raw lyrium in the thaig must have strengthened the lyrium in him somehow. Hmm, he probably hates it. Shit!_  Did she have to apologize for that too? She was sick and tired of apologizing to that elf.

She protected her eyes with her hand until he came back to normal. "Does it hurt?" she asked.

"No."

 _No? That's good to hear!_  "You know what? This can be a good thing. These markings are part of you and you should make the most of them," she just gave her opinion and hoped for the best.

"I was thinking the same thing."

 _What?_   _Are we finally agreeing on something?_  "I was sure you were going to hate me even more for this."

"I do not hate you."

"No, of course not," she said sarcastically. "You just dislike me a lot."

"I… don't. I'm sorry I made you think that. I hope we can keep working together."

"Really? What if I'm going to help some  _crazy evil_  apostate run free?"

"I'll follow you and it wouldn't be the first time."

"Huh, it's true," she admitted. "I guess I needed to be reminded of that."

"Even if you decide to break your sister out of the Gallows, I will not abandon you," he said.

Her eyes widened in surprise. She didn't think he would mention the elephant in the room, especially not to say something like that.

"As long as it's just her," he added. "And it doesn't mean I approve of you doing it, but without my help you would probably get yourself killed, so I would do it for you."

Still, she was not expecting that much loyalty from him. "Thank you. But that is not going to happen. At least not any time soon. Cu– I mean, the Knight-Captain gave me his word that he'll look out for her in there."

"Apparently not all templars are as bad as you think they are," he smirked.

"Not all of them, no," she acquiesced. "Aren't you going to offer me a glass of wine?" she asked, changing the subject.

"I would, but I have no clean glasses," he replied.

She looked around at the broken furniture and dusty floor. "It figures. Since you're going to live here we should clean it up. This mess might be attracting rats, cockroaches and who knows what else. Don't want that in my neighborhood."

He gave her a confused look.

"Don't you know I'll be your neighbor? I bought the old Amell Estate. I'm calling it Hawke Estate now. I hope it catches," she said casually.

"I see. Congratulations, I guess?"

"You guess? Are you asking me if congratulations are in order? Because I've just bought a huge frigging house in Hightown! Mother is going to get her title back and we'll be nobles. Can you believe it? Me! A fucking noble!" she laughed heartedly, and then she grabbed the wine, gave it a large gulp straight from the bottle and handed it back to him.

He was more startled with her drinking after him, from his bottle, than with her news.

"That's very good!" she said, licking her lips.

"I have another bottle in the cellar. I can open it if you'd like."

"Save it for my next visit. There's somewhere I need to be right now. Bye, Fenris," she said.

As he watched her leave he pondered if he should follow her. She wasn't wearing her armor or carrying her daggers and the sun was already setting. It would be dark soon. Also, she was alone. Warning her about the risks she was taking out of recklessness and foolishness had no effect whatsoever, he knew that. Maybe it was best to follow her just to make sure she would be safe.

Hawke arrived at the Gallows to find Cullen outside of the locked gates, waiting for her.

"What took you so long?" he said, pulling her to him and claiming her mouth with his.

Fenris had to muffle his shocked gasp at the sight of their kiss. Did she really like him or was she just whoring herself out to him for Bethany's sake? The latter made much more sense to him. Hawke would do anything for her mage sister. It took the elf a great deal of concentration and restraint to keep his markings from lighting up, such was the anger he felt surging in him.

"You taste like wine," Cullen uttered, breaking the kiss.

"And you taste like lyrium," Hawke countered.

Maybe it was a bit too early in their relationship for them to discuss that. Also, he was a templar. She knew what she was getting into when she decided to date him.

To avoid an argument she hastily thought of something else to say. "A public display of affection in your workplace, huh? I wasn't expecting that."

He looked around. "There's no one here."

Well, there was Fenris hidden in a dark corner nearby, but then again maybe it was too early in their relationship to introduce him to all the craziness of her band.

"I'm starving. Let's go get something to eat," she said instead.

Hawke left holding hands with Cullen and Fenris went back to his mansion. The rogue certainly was not going to need his help that night.

* * *

It was early in the morning when Hawke and Leandra got into their new house to start cleaning. Varric arrived shortly after, bringing Merrill to help them and two hirelings: Bodahn and Sandal.

Leandra immediately hit it off with the nice dwarves and by the end of the day and with Hawke's consent she had hired them permanently.

* * *

It was Haring 30th, the last day of the year. Varric and Isabela had invited all their companions to a party at the Hanged Man, but Hawke wouldn't be going. She had other plans for that night.

She still hadn't moved to her Hightown estate. Most of the furniture her mother had commissioned hadn't been delivered yet. Only the stuff that didn't need to be custom made was there already, like Hawke's much desired bathtub. There was also a big trunk with the linens and bed covers Leandra had ordered, a big furry rug splayed in front of the hearth and an armchair. That was almost all she needed. There was only one thing missing and she went to take care of it.

Cullen watched as Hawke approached wearing a heavy cloak on that awfully cold evening. There was a bottle of wine in her hands and a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Hi, handsome," she greeted him lovingly.

He gave her a quick kiss on the lips. There was still people running about in the Gallows and he didn't want to put on a show for them. "Have you decided to come over to the Chantry tonight?" he asked.

"Not if I can find something better to do with this sexy man I've been dating," she replied, giving him a wily look.

"Baby, I told you Grand Cleric Elthina is holding a special service tonight from 11p.m to 1a.m. for the faithful to repent for their sins and welcome First Day in prayer and penitence. I have to be there. Why don't you want to come with me?"

Oh, well, she wanted to welcome First Day in sin.

"You wanted to celebrate when I bought the estate. I thought we could do it today."

He knew exactly what she meant by that. That celebration had become a metaphor for their first time. It wasn't something they agreed on, to give it that meaning – it had just happened. They both knew that would be the night they would finally sleep together. And now she was telling him she wanted to do it at last.

Maybe if he confessed and said his prayers early that night… but all the templars would be accompanying the service, except for the ones on guard duty at the Circle. Elthina and Knight-Commander Meredith had both told him they were expecting him there.

His hesitation got her wondering. "Cullen, have you ever…? You know."

He smiled. "I have, yes. As long as we don't get involved with mages, there are no restrictions in that area."

"I thought that if we… celebrated tonight, it would be even more special."

He looked down. "I'm really sorry, baby. I can't."

"It's okay," she sighed. "You go to the Chantry and I'll go to the Hanged Man and we'll meet tomorrow."

"You are going to spend the night at a tavern?" he asked, trying to sound casual, but clearly bothered.

"Well, my friends are having a party there. Why?"

"Nothing, it's just that…"

"Are you jealous?"

"No!" he lied.

"Don't you trust me?"

"I do. It's not that. Uh… who's going?"

"Isabela, Merrill, Aveline and some friends of hers from the Guard, Fenris, Anders, Varric, Tomwise, Quintus, Hubert… Hmm, I don't think you know most of these people. Why do you ask?"

He really didn't know most of them, but he did notice she mentioned more men than women.

"No reason," he replied.

 _Liar_ , she thought.

"Er, do you want to go get something to eat?" he asked.

"No, not today. If I'm going to this party I better start getting ready, right?" she said, just to annoy him more. "Have a happy First Day!" she added and putting her arms around his neck she crushed her mouth against his. She worried his bottom lip between her teeth and then her tongue went eagerly searching for his.

He didn't resist her and didn't even look around to see if there was anyone about. Pressing her body against his, she moaned in his mouth. Her kiss was hungry and needful. It held a promise for much more.

As he gasped for breath, she pulled away from him. "I'll see you tomorrow," she said, and hurriedly turned on her heels, hoping that her kiss had been arousing yet unsatisfying enough to make him change his plans for that night.

* * *

It was almost midnight. Hawke was having a drink with her companions at the Hanged Man, a scowl on her face. Cullen hadn't shown up. Her kiss and invitation to her bed had been no match for the Grand Cleric's offer for two hours of repentance and prayer.

Anders invited her to dance and the rogue accepted. She knew he liked her and she didn't want to lead him on, but it was just one dance. No harm could come from that, right?

As he took her hand, a much slower, romantic song started. If the healer wasn't so broke she would have thought he had tipped the musicians to do that. Well, she did give him a generous amount of money a few days ago for his work in the expedition.

The mage pulled her closer to him. "You look beautiful," he whispered in her ear.

 _I shouldn't have agreed to this_ , Hawke thought. "Thank you, Anders. Hmm, have I told you I'm seeing someone?"

"Yet this  _someone_  was not here at the party you had when you bought your new house and he's not here today."

"Are you implying that he's not real?"

"No. I think you don't want to be seen with him. I wonder why is that."

"It's nothing like that. He had a previous appointment."

"I can't think of a man in his right mind who has you as his date would rather spend the night with anyone else," he remarked, tightening his grip around her waist.

Things were getting out of hand. She shouldn't have agreed to this dance, she shouldn't even have attended this party.

Suddenly, the door to the tavern was flung open and Cullen stalked in.

Isabela hastily grabbed Merrill's arm and rushed to hide her upstairs.

"Maker help me! I won't let him take me, Hawke," Anders said, pulling away from her, bright blue glowing in his eyes.

"Anders, look at me," Hawke said, grabbing him by the shoulders, and forcing him to meet her eyes. "Calm down. He did not come for you. And do not let Justice make an appearance right now, I beg you. You have to trust me on this," she uttered and let go of him, a dead serious look in her face.

The dwarf was already by their side. "Blondie, keep it cool. This is not what you think."

"Don't let him do anything stupid," Hawke told Varric and went over to meet Cullen.

The templar grinned widely when he saw her.

"Changed your mind?" she asked him.

His arms snaked around her waist and neck and his lips fell hard upon hers. "The thoughts I'm having are not appropriate for the Chantry," he mumbled against her mouth.

"Let's go," she said, smiling.

She grabbed her cloak and they rushed out of the tavern holding hands.

* * *

"Him? Why would she…? Is she doing this for Bethany? Why did you tell me to be calm? You knew he wouldn't try to bring me in, didn't you? Oh, Maker! She's not sleeping with him for me, is she?" Anders babbled nervously, an appalled look on his face.

"Blondie, stop! Hawke likes him. That's why they are together. And she's not sleeping with him, but I bet that will change tonight," the dwarf replied, smirking.

* * *

When Hawke and Cullen stepped outside the Hanged Man, it was snowing. The first snow of the season.

"Wow, isn't this incredibly romantic?" she said, holding out a hand to the falling snowflakes.

"I think the Maker is on your side," he replied, smiling.

Minutes later she was unlocking the door to her estate. He swept her in his arms and got in carrying her. She looked at him, startled.

"For luck," he said simply. "Which way is your bedroom?"

"I don't have a bed yet. What do you think about the rug?"

"Perfect. I'll light up the hearth," he said and gingerly put her down.

While he took care of that task, she got a blanket from the trunk of linens and sat on the rug, waiting for him.

They took their time undressing each other, covering every inch of bare skin revealed with kisses until only their smallclothes remained on.

He beckoned her to lie down on her back and kneeled in front of her. He lifted her right leg to his mouth, trailing kisses along it, from her ankle to the inside of her thigh until he reached her warmth. He kissed her over the thin, already wet fabric of her smalls, making her breathe out a needful moan. Then he went back to her other ankle, giving the same treatment to her left leg.

She raised her hips slightly for him to take off her smalls, but instead he moved up to her chest and unhooked her breastband, spilling her full, creamy breasts free. He took one nipple in his mouth suckling it as his fingers softly rubbed the other.

He kissed his way down to her warm center and finally took off her smalls. She reached for him with urgency, not wanting to wait a second longer to have him inside of her. But he gently pushed her back down on the rug.

"Baby, I don't want to rush this. Let me enjoy you," he whispered.

Well, when he put it like that…

Trying to reign in her lust, she took several deep breaths as he slowly placed feather-light kisses from her neck to her stomach. He delicately pushed her legs apart and closed his lips over her clit. She bent her knees, giving him better access as he sucked and circled and pressed her nub with his tongue.

He slid a finger inside her and then a second one. His mouth never left her clit as he started thrusting his fingers into her, curling them to caress her walls, making her writhe and moan.

It didn't take long until she came, arching her back and chanting his name, her chest heaving with rugged pants. His fingers came out covered in her cream and he looked deep into her eyes as he sucked them clean.

"Maker, you taste so good," he muttered.

She couldn't take this anymore. He was going to drive her insane.

Suddenly she captured his mouth with her pouty lips and hooking her legs around him she flipped them over. She hastily took off his underwear and when he was about to tell her again that there was no need to rush, she took his hard shaft in her mouth. With her tongue sliding down on the underside of his cock and twirling hungrily around him, he completely lost the ability to form any coherent sentence.

Her hand was stroking the base of his shaft as she sucked the head. She looked up and caught his gaze. He was propped up on his elbows to better watch her. She wickedly kept her eyes on his as her hands slid to his waist and she took him to the hilt with her mouth.

Now it was her that was driving him crazy.

The templar pulled her up and kissed her longingly as he embraced her and turned them over. She spread her legs invitingly and he settled between them. She reached out a hand to guide his length to her entrance and he unhurriedly pushed himself into her.

"Please, Cullen. Just do it. Take me," she pleaded, lustfully rolling her hips against him.

He began thrusting into her, his movements slow and careful.

Hawke lost it. It was nice that he was all romantic and gentle with her like no one had ever been, but even during sex? That was not her thing. Maybe it was her fault. She had asked him to take it slow after all. But they were past that now.

Locking her ankles behind his back, she drew him closer, making his cock sink deeper into her sheath. Then she bucked her hips, making her warmth clench and twitch around him and cradled his face with both her hands. "Cullen, baby, please, fuck me! Hard! I can take it," she said, eyes dark with lust.

That sent shivers down his spine and he gasped for air. Maker help him, that woman was going to be his undoing. She had already made him choose sin over repentance and prayer. And now she was making him lose all his self-control.

He began hammering her, each thrust more forceful than the previous. One hand was fisting a clump of her hair, the other was supporting his weight.

He lowered his head to the crook of her neck. As he breathed in her scent, his teeth nipped at the soft skin, nearly breaking it, leaving bite marks along her neck.

Her moans became wordless screams as her release hit for the second time. Her nails were digging into his skin and her back arched into him as she rode the waves of pleasure that were shooting through her body.

He wanted to keep pounding into her, to last longer, but he couldn't. The way her hot core was clutching and squeezing him as she came overwhelmed him with pleasure and threw him over the edge. His head fell back and his eyes snapped shut as he filled her with endless jolts of his seed.

Breathing heavily, he let his weight fall over her for just a couple of seconds, before giving her a quick kiss on the lips and rolling over to lay by her side.

She reached for the blanket to cover them and they snuggled under it.

"You're amazing," he muttered, a silly smile on his face.

"So are you," she said, tenderly running her fingers on his chiseled hard chest. "Are you spending the night?"

He shouldn't. What if the Knight-Commander wanted to talk to him after the service? And he was probably going to need a lyrium draught first thing in the morning.

"I am," he answered, unable to resist the beautiful naked woman in his arms.

She lifted herself in one elbow and cupped his face with her free hand. "Happy First Day, baby," she said and her lips descended on his for a heated kiss. Their night was far from over.


	22. Love Me Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke has a surprise for Cullen. He enjoys it immensely.

By the end of Wintermarch all the commissioned furniture had been delivered and Hawke and her mother were finally able to move to their Hightown estate.

Leandra had reclaimed her title and was now being called Lady Leandra Amell. Though it seemed that Kirkwall's nobility had not yet acknowledged that, since she was not getting invitations to the balls and dinner parties at the Viscount's Keep and at the other Hightown estates and mansions.

Eager to take part on the nobles' frivolous routine, Leandra had been unsuccessfully trying to convince Hawke to throw a party of their own and invite all Kirkwall's high society. This way the nobles would remember to invite them as well when they next had any social gathering.

Hawke was about to give in to that horrible idea just to get her mother to stop pestering her, when Bodahn came in and dropped an envelope on her desk. It was an invitation to the traditional Wintersend Banquet at the Viscount's Keep on Guardian 8th.

The rogue let out a relieved sigh. Her mother had gotten what she wanted and they wouldn't have to throw some expensive, stupid party to please some phony nobles.

* * *

A week before the banquet Hawke was reading a book in her bedroom when her mother summoned her in the living room.

"Marian, this is Lady Amelie de Montford," Leandra said.

An old woman wearing heavy make-up and a copper-colored velvet gown with many layers of golden frills stood up, beaming.

"I'm pleased to meet you, Lady Amelie," Hawke said politely.

"Oh, dear, the pleasure is mine," she replied. "Your daughter is a lovely young lady, Leandra," the old woman added before sitting back down on the armchair.

"Marian, Lady Amelie helped me choose your gown for the Wintersend Banquet," her mother said.

 _It must be dreadful_ , Hawke thought, glancing at Lady Amelie's tacky clothes.

"She was just telling me about her youngest son, Antoine. He's your age and he's single. Maybe you two could go together… What do you think?" Leandra continued.

Hawke was about to open her mouth to come up with some excuse, when Lady Amelie chimed in, "Please, Leandra, do not bother. I'm sure she'll attend with the Knight-Captain."

"The Knight-Captain?" Leandra asked, puzzled.

"Why not? Everybody knows they are dating. He's quite a catch, dear. Congratulations," the older woman said, nodding and smiling.

_Shit!_

Hawke had been postponing telling her mother about her relationship with Cullen, because that news would certainly lead to a nasty argument. Since they had gotten back the estate, Leandra had been nicer to her daughter and had finally stopped saying the rogue was to blame for Bethany being taken to the Circle. Hawke didn't want to spoil that.

"Marian, could you please come with me to the kitchen so we can get Lady Amelie some tea and apple pie," Leandra uttered, a fake smile on her lips.

Hawke took a deep breath, preparing herself for what was to come, and went after her.

"You are dating the Knight-Captain? The templar that took my baby daughter away from me? That imprisoned her? Why would you do this?" her mother snapped once they were alone.

A two-minute talk in the kitchen wasn't going to be enough for Hawke to explain how she became Cullen's lover, especially if she wanted her mother to ever approve of their relationship.

"I'm sorry, Mother. I should have told you sooner. I… uh… It's a long story. I think it's best if we talk after your guest leaves," Hawke said and hastily headed back to the living room with a slice of pie for Lady Amelie.

The old woman didn't stay much longer, especially because Leandra had suddenly become unresponsive to whatever subject she had come up with. The second she was out of the house, the mother turned to her daughter, glaring. "Explain yourself," she demanded.

Hawke felt like a teenager all over again, having Leandra talk to her like that. "It just happened," she sighed. "I had been meeting him in the Gallows every day to have news on Bethany and… I fell for him."

"Don't tell me you love him, Marian. He took your sister to the Circle. We might never see her again. What would your father say?"

"Mother, I did not plan for this to happen. I wanted to hate him, but I couldn't. Cullen is not like the others. He's a remarkable man and he's so nice to me…"

"Maker's breath! He. Is. A. Templar."

That was the cue Hawke was waiting for to play her best card. "I imagine you had an argument just like this with your parents when they learned you were dating a mage."

She should feel bad for saying that. It was a low blow. But she didn't. She was a rogue and rogues never play fair. They have no shame in going for the eyes or hitting below the belt.

Leandra's angry gaze turned into a pained one and she looked down as the memories of her youth flooded her mind. She felt a tightening in her chest with the realization that she was sounding just like her mother as she scolded Marian for not dating a man of her liking.

"We cannot choose who we fall in love with. You of all people should know that," Hawke added, unnecessarily. She had already hit the spot.

Leandra might never be happy about it, but she sure wouldn't object to her daughter's relationship with Cullen. She couldn't, not after all she had gone through to be with a man her parents didn't approve of.

Hawke noticed the tears in her mother's eyes and put a comforting hand on her shoulder, beckoning her to sit on the couch. The rogue sat by her side and they talked for a long time, now in a much more amiable tone.

The daughter told her mother all about Cullen, their relationship and how happy they were together. Then the mother told her daughter about Malcolm, how they had met and fallen in love, her parent's horrible reaction when they found out and the hard decision she had to make to abandon her family so she could marry the man she loved.

Since Carver's death, Hawke and Leandra's relationship had been shaken. This was the first time were actually bonding after that tragedy.

* * *

It was the day of the Wintersend Banquet. Hawke put on the long dark green velvet dress her mother and Lady Amelie had chosen for her. It wasn't exactly form-fitting and it had long sleeves and no cleavage at all. She was covered up to her neck. Though it was appropriate for that cold Guardian night it made her feel completely unattractive.

She tied her hair up in a tight bun and put on a little make-up, just to highlight her features. When she looked in the mirror she thought she resembled one of those evil step-mothers on the fairy tale books she used to read as a kid. She turned around only to confirm her suspicions that the gown wasn't flattering from any angle.

It was a shame that the first time Cullen would see her all dressed up it would be in an awful outfit like that. Maybe there was something she could do to make things more interesting…

* * *

Cullen and Leandra had been alone in the living room enduring the most awkward of all silences while they waited for Hawke. The rogue couldn't hold back a chuckle when she saw how relieved they both looked to see her coming out of her room ready to go to the banquet.

The Knight-Captain went to meet her on the bottom of the stairs and offered her an arm. She slid hers through and they began walking.

As any good boyfriend would do, he said she looked beautiful.

Hawke snorted. "With this dress? Impossible," she whispered in his ear so her mother wouldn't listen.

The templar on the other hand looked positively gorgeous in black pants and a dark blue long-sleeved tunic, all perfectly fitting.

Once at the Viscount's Keep, Hawke, Cullen and Leandra found their places on a table with Lady Amelie, her husband and their youngest son.

After dinner, Cullen and Hawke joined other couples in the middle of the ballroom to dance. His hand tightened slightly on her waist and they began moving with the music. As the song went on they were getting more comfortable and confident in their steps and were twisting and turning and spinning…

"I know this gown is hideous and it makes me look older, but… hmm… you might like to know I'm not wearing anything underneath it," Hawke murmured and her lips softly brushed his earlobe.

He gasped and his hand slid a little lower on her hips. Maker, he wanted to grab her ass and squeezed it right there and rip that horrible dress off her. He was taking deep breaths and reciting the Chant of Light in his head as he tried to contain his arousal when someone poked his shoulder, making him turn around looking utterly startled as if he had been caught doing something wrong.

"It's good to see you, my friend," Sebastian greeted.

"Brother Sebastian? It's good to see you too. I didn't know you would be here tonight. This is Marian Hawke. Marian, this is –"

"Sebastian Vael, prince of Starkhaven. But Her Grace prefers he introduces himself as a brother in the Chantry," she said playfully mocking the way he had introduced himself when they first met. "How are you?"

The archer chuckled and took her hand raising it to his lips for a polite kiss. "Better after you took down those Flint Company assassins," he replied.

Hawke bowed her head slightly and smiled.

"So I take it she's the reason you've been missing the 7p.m service lately?" Sebastian teased, making Cullen blush.

Before the templar could say anything, the prince continued, "Serah Hawke, may I have the next dance?" He turned to the Knight-Captain, "If you don't mind, of course."

Cullen nodded in agreement and stepped away. There were about a hundred questions he wanted to ask his girlfriend right now, but he decided it would be best to wait until they were alone.

* * *

Sebastian led Hawke with grace and ease through the ballroom.

"I did not expect a Brother to be such a good dancer," she remarked.

"I was not always a Brother," he replied. "But I did not come here to dance. I have been trying to find out who hired the Flint Company."

"Any luck?"

"My family has ruled Starkhaven for six generations. We have enemies, but none who would identify themselves openly. I know some nobles are jealous of us for being royalty when they are mere nobility. I suspect one of them might be behind this."

"All Kirkwall's nobility is here."

"That's why I came, to investigate. I cannot act on suspicions. I have to be sure before I confront anyone."

"And you're telling me this because you want my help," she guessed.

"It was very fortuitous that I ran into you here. It took you only a couple of days to track down and destroy the entire Flint Company. You must have connections. I think I have a better chance to find out who's behind this with your help."

"Sebastian, I'm not su–"

"Please. I have no one else to turn to. I'm the last of my line. I should not do this alone and make myself a target. If you like I can travel with you. I'll help you in whatever quests you need. I'm a fair archer."

Hawke conceded. She had taken on lesser causes. His was really worth pursuing.

Glad to have gathered such a capable ally, Sebastian pulled her closer to him. "Thank you," he whispered in her ear.

* * *

From across the ballroom, Cullen had been watching them. He knew the man dancing with Hawke had taken vows, but the way he had his arms around her and was constantly whispering in her ear started bothering him. And then he saw the archer tightening his grip around her waist, pulling her closer to him…

That was his woman. She was at that party with him. She was wearing nothing underneath her gown for him, making it so easy for him to take her anywhere he liked... His. Maker, enough! He wanted her now.

The templar stalked purposefully towards the dancing couple.

"If you are done, friend, I'd like to have her back," he said, trying to sound casual.

Sebastian nodded. "Thank you for this dance, my lady," he said as he let go of her.

She smiled at him and turned to Cullen.

"We're leaving," the templar growled, pulling her to him.

Hawke immediately agreed and they left the Keep in a rush. Seeing her usually constricted templar almost lose his mind only because she was dancing with a Chantry Brother was most arousing.

"What about Mother?" she remembered to ask.

"She already left. Lord Montford was going to escort her home."

"Good. Um… where are we going? I feel like… er… you know," she said, giving him a cheeky smile.

The problem was that she couldn't have a man sleeping over – Leandra would never be okay with that. Templars were not allowed to have guests in their quarters. And it was too late for them to go looking for an inn with a vacant room for them to rent for the night.

He gave her a wicked look. "You better think of something or I might take you up in that dark corner over there," he uttered, pointing to a somewhat secluded spot on the side of the steps, near the bottom of the stairs to the Keep.

"Alright," she replied.

"What?"

"There. Let's do it there," she said, her tone challenging.

Maker help him! He could not keep losing control like that, but that woman was such a temptress. Taken over by lust, his body moved on its own volition and suddenly he had her pressed against the wall of that dark corner and was kissing her roughly, his hands roaming all over her.

As he hiked her dress up to her hips, she reached for his pants and freed his erection. She raised one leg to curl around his waist, opening herself to him. He entered her with two fingers, thrusting them into her, testing her readiness.

With one hand she stroked his cock, while the other snaked around his neck, holding him close and helping steady herself.

He growled as he replaced his fingers with his length in her tight sheath and she moaned wantonly in his mouth. He pulled her other leg up to lock around him as he began pounding relentlessly into her, hitting that perfect spot deep inside of her that never failed to make her cry out his name and clamp her velvety walls around him .

Biting his shoulder to muffle her cries of pleasure she came hard on his cock, her whole body shaking. He managed a few more erratic thrusts until he too exploded, coating her insides with his seed and groaning low in her ear.

Panting, he rested his forehead against hers as he slowly pulled out of her and let her down. They heard steps on the stairs, so they quickly straightened their clothes and kissed quietly until the noise was gone and they could leave their secluded corner unnoticed.

As they walked towards her estate, he kept a possessive arm around her.

"I love you," he uttered and it came out so naturally, as if he said it all the time. But he didn't. That was the first time and it made her breath hitch.

"I – I… don't know what to say," she staggered.

"Say that you love me too," he replied softly.

Did she?

She felt his juices trickling down her thighs. She was his. That she knew. Definitely.

Maybe... "I do," she said and leaned her head on his shoulder. "I love you too."

* * *

It was the beginning of Cloudreach and the weather was already much warmer. Hawke sent word to her companions to meet her in the Hanged Man for lunch. They all thought she was finally going to bring Cullen and properly introduce him to them as her boyfriend. Instead she came in with Sebastian and Garrus.

The prince took in that odd bunch before him – a beardless dwarf, an elf with unusual tattoos, another elf, a barely dressed woman, the Guard-Captain, a scruffy-looking man… He decided not look a gift horse in the mouth. He needed all allies he could gather if he was going to avenge his family and take back what was rightfully his. Thus, he made acquaintance of those who yet did not know him and told them his story.

When he was done, Hawke told her band they were going to help the archer find out and confront the person who had hired the Flint Company to murder his family.

"So, are you all on board with this? Or is there anything else you would like to ask before we start looking into it?" she asked them.

"Oh, I have something I'd like to ask. When are we going to meet your boyfriend?" Merrill said excitedly, completely changing the subject.

"He's the Knight-Captain, Daisy. Hopefully, you'll never meet him," Varric replied.

Sebastian's gaze fell upon the Dalish elf, his brow furrowed.

Isabela scoffed. "Hawke and Cullen are one of those couples…"

"What do you mean?" Hawke asked, annoyed at how her private affairs always ended up being the main topic of these meetings with her companions.

"Couples who get together and think they don't need anyone else, who disappear from their friends and start doing everything just the two of them," the pirate explained.

Aveline nodded and Garrus barked in agreement with Isabela.

Hawke's eyes widened in shock. "You don't actually think that, do you?"

"It's been over three months since we last saw you," Rivaini said.

"True. It was the night before First Day," Fenris added.

 _Wow! That long?_  Hawke really had not noticed. Maybe it was time she brought Cullen to hang out with her friends. She didn't want her so talented and reliable band to fall apart.

"Why are you with him anyway?" Anders asked, sounding almost hostile.

"I don't have to explain myself to you," she retorted, upset with the mage's spiteful tone. "Look, everyone, I'm sorry I haven't been around. How about we meet here tomorrow night for a drink? I'll bring Cullen."

"I'm not coming," the healer huffed.

Hawke took a deep breath, calming herself before replying, "As long as you keep Justice quiet you are in no danger, Anders. Cullen told me he won't bring you in nor tell the other templars about you, because he appreciates what you do for the poor and the refugees in Darktown and also out of respect for the Grey Wardens, since he knows you're one of them."

The mage's mouth fell open. "Is that… true?"

"He's changed since you last saw –"

"Are you an apostate?" Sebastian interrupted.

"Shit!" Varric exclaimed. Just in case, he reached for Bianca.

That bright blue light Hawke hated so much flared in Anders' eyes, so she hastily laid a reassuring hand over his own, hoping it would help him keep that damned spirit at bay.

Then, she turned her gaze to the Brother. "Sebastian, Anders is a healer and a Grey Warden. He's a valuable member of this group. If you want my help, you're going to keep your mouth shut about him. As you probably heard me saying just now, the Knight-Captain himself won't take him to the Circle, because of the charitable work he does in his clinic in Darktown."

Just to make sure the prince understood how serious she was about that, she started toying with one her daggers in her free hand.

"What do you say? Do we have an agreement?" she asked.

He glanced at the once amiable people on the table. They all had stern looks on their faces. Some were menacing, even.

"We do," he asserted.

"Good. And there's one more thing. In case you're wondering, Merrill here is a mage too. Are you going to tell anyone about that?" she asked, still toying with her dagger.

For good measure, Isabela yanked one of her blades out of its sheath.

"No. I- I won't," he said hastily. For the love of Andraste, what had he gotten himself into?

* * *

The next night almost all Hawke had feared had happened during her gathering with Cullen and her friends at the Hanged Man. Varric had wiped the man clean in Wicked Grace, Isabela had acted overly lewd the whole time and Aveline had had the most boring talk ever with him about templars interfering with the duties of the guard.

It wasn't a total disaster only because Cullen was happy to see his friend Sebastian and the two of them, along with Fenris, were engaged on a lively conversation for a long time. Also, not wanting to take any chances, Merrill and Anders did not attend, which Hawke thought it was for the best.

"I'm sorry for Isabela's behavior. And Varric's. And Aveline's," Hawke told her templar once they had called it a night and he was walking her home.

"It's fine, baby. I had a good time," he kindly replied. "I wonder why you waited this long before you properly introduced me to your friends…"

"Well, for one, you haven't introduced me to yours."

"I guess you and Brother Sebastian are the only friends I have in Kirkwall. I did not know any of the templars here before I became Knight-Captain. I came in already as their superior. Respect for hierarchy is essential within the Templar Order. They don't take any liberties with me and I don't encourage them to."

They halted at her door.

"Sleep here tonight. With me," she purred.

He looked at her surprised. "Isn't your mother home?"

"She is."

"I thought you said she would never be okay with you having a man over."

"No, she wouldn't. But I've been thinking… this is not the Amell estate anymore, is it? This is the Hawke estate now," she replied with a smug smile. "And  _Lady_  Hawke here really wants to sleep with her lover and doesn't give a shit to what people might think or say."

Smiling, he went inside right after her. "We'll get married someday and the fact that we used to sleep together before that will be of no importance whatsoever."

Hawke felt her heart skip a beat. She had never dreamt of being a wife. She had dreamt of being  _Arthur's_  wife. When she lost him, marriage never crossed her mind again. Now she had this handsome, devoted, goodhearted man who had managed to break through her defenses with his love and care. Maybe he was the one…

"Baby, are you okay?" he asked.

She looked at him and blinked a few times, only now realizing that, lost in her thoughts, she had stopped in the middle of the entrance hall.

"Never better. Let's go to bed," she said beaming.

When Hawke and Cullen finally got out of her bedroom the following day it was almost noon. They stopped by the kitchen and she tossed him an apple and got one for herself.

"It's too late for breakfast. Want to go to the Hanged Man for lunch?" she asked.

She noticed him shuddering as he raised the fruit to his mouth to take a bite.

"I can't, baby. I'm sorry. I have to go," he replied, his voice oddly quivering.

"You're not going straight to work right now. You're going to have lunch first, right? You might as well eat with me…" she pouted.

He wiped a bead of sweat that was forming on his forehead. "I have a headache, baby. I better go back to the Gallows."

He wasn't fooling her. She could read between the lines. "Okay," she gave up.

As they kissed goodbye she felt his racing heart through his clothes. She had learned by now that eight to ten hours was the longest he could go without lyrium before his body started showing the first withdrawal symptoms. That's how bad his addiction was. And right now he was probably about fifteen hours without it, which meant his symptoms were already spiraling out of control.

He had spoken of marriage the night before and completely blinded by his love and affection she had seen no reason to refuse him if he ever actually proposed. But he was an addict and she couldn't just ignore that. Could she really trust him?

 _Aveline was married to a templar. Maybe I should go talk to her about it one of these days_ , Hawke thought.


	23. If You've Got Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something from the past catches up with the Hawkes. Hawke and Cullen face problems on their relatioship.

Cullen had once again casually mentioned marriage during a conversation with Hawke. "When we get married we should get one of those," he had said, pointing to a weapon stand for sale at the Hightown Market that could hold four blades and one shield.

It was the second time he had said something like that in the past thirty days, so Hawke invited Aveline over for a drink to have a talk about templars and their lyrium addiction.

"You've settled in nicely," the Guard-Captain remarked, when she entered the rogue's estate.

"It's just luck," Hawke replied. "And skill," she added, smirking.

"Indeed. Here. I got you a house-warming gift. It's a very special brandy, aged five years in oak casks. It's made in Orlais. There they call it  _cognac_ , of course."

 _She certainly knows her spirits_ , Hawke thought, amused. "Thank you, Aveline. Should I open it?"

"Sure. Let's have a taste."

Hawke poured them the brandy and they went to sit in the library.

"Cullen said you requested a couple of templars to join the guards on some patrols," the rogue uttered.

"Did he tell you he refused my requisition?" Aveline replied.

"I thought you hated it when templars interfere with the affairs of the guard."

"I do. But the seneschal insists on having these templars. We had a few casualties in the guard lately due to unfortunate encounters with apostates even during patrols that were supposed to be quiet and easy. I have to find a way to convince the Knight-Captain to comply. Any ideas? Apparently, templars think it is demeaning for them to join the guard…"

"You can probably get Cullen to agree to anything in exchange for a lyrium draught if he's been out for long enough," Hawke huffed.

The warrior arched her eyebrows, giving her friend a concerned look. "Witnessed any withdrawal crisis already? They are not pretty…"

"No crisis yet, but it worries me that only eight hours without it is enough for him to start shuddering and sweating."

"Eight hours? That's not good, Hawke. Wesley…"Aveline smiled sadly, "…he was in it pretty badly too. Sometimes he would wake up in the middle of the night craving it."

"What did you do about it?"

"What could I do? Templars need their special abilities to stand a chance against apostates and blood mages and I wanted my husband to come home safe every night. Without lyrium what would templars do? Try and run their swords through every mage they encounter? This is what it is, Hawke. There's no way around it," the Guard-Captain said, taking a large gulp from the glass in her hands.

"Cullen has been talking about marriage…"

"Really? And do you want to marry him?"

"I… don't know," the rogue sighed. "This is the most normal relationship I have ever had. I'm happy with him and given my previous history with men, I didn't think that would ever happen."

"You haven't been together that long…" Aveline pointed out.

"Wow, aren't you a ray of sunshine?" Hawke said sarcastically. "Anyway, he hasn't asked me yet. I have time to think this through."

"I'm sorry. It's just that… never mind."

"What? Don't do that! Tell me what it is."

"It's silly. Just something Isabela said," the red haired woman avoided Hawke's eyes as she spoke, feeling somewhat ashamed of what she had to say. It would sound like she was gossiping, but… maybe it was best to tell her friend about it before it was too late. "Weren't you pining over a tall bulky blond Fereldan warrior until you started dating Cullen – who can also be described by those same words?"

Hawke downed the brandy in her glass in one full swig and refilled it. "Isabela said that?"

Aveline nodded.

"And you agree?" the rogue asked, her expression unreadable.

The Guard-Captain breathed out heavily. "I just want to make sure that you know what you are doing. Is it really Cullen the one you want to be with?"

It was a genuine concern. Was he just a replacement for Alistair? Hawke felt her heart clench. She had gotten closer to Cullen for all the wrong reasons and their relationship had been born amidst lies. "Maybe it just means that I have a type," she shrugged, pretending she wasn't bothered by her friend's comment.

"It is a very specific one," Aveline remarked.

"Look, I'm not saying I agree, but I guess… perhaps at first… I might have felt attracted to him because of that. The thing is that I spent only one night with Alistair and I've been with Cullen for months now. If this relationship once had anything to do with Alistair, it doesn't anymore," Hawke explained, clearly upset.

"You're right. I shouldn't have brought it up."

The two women kept drinking in companionable silence for a few minutes.

Once Aveline's glass had emptied, Hawke offered her another shot but she refused. "I should leave," the guardswoman said, getting on her feet.

"About the lyrium problem, any other advice?" the rogue asked.

"You don't want to be near a templar during a bad withdrawal crisis, believe me. Draughts, they take the edge off, but they are not enough to feed their addiction. If you don't want him leaving your side whenever he runs out, you better have some lyrium dust around."

After her friend was gone, Hawke went back to the library. Garrus came in and sat by her side, resting his head on her leg. For long a time she stayed there, petting her mabari, lost in her thoughts. From what she had gathered from her talk to Aveline she should not only accept Cullen's addiction, but back it up. That seemed… twisted.

* * *

At least once a month there was either a ball or a banquet or a party of some kind in one of the Hightown mansions. Cullen didn't always have time off to accompany Hawke and every time she attended one of these events without him, people started asking if they had broken up. Even after she said that they were fine and he just had to work late, they still insisted on introducing her to their unmarried sons.

At least she was having the opportunity to engage in very lively conversations with tipsy nobles and gather information that was helping her narrow down the list of suspects of having hired the Flint Company to murder the Vaels.

On Harvestmere 30th Hawke and Leandra had a very formal dinner to attend at the Talwains. Cullen was busy and wouldn't be able to leave in time to accompany his girlfriend, so she asked him to meet her afterwards, at 10p.m. at the Chantry, where Sebastian would also be expecting her for an update on her latest findings.

When they left the Talwain estate, Hawke took Leandra along to the Chantry. Even though the rogue and her companions had wiped out the Guardsman Pretenders over a year ago, she didn't like the idea of her mother walking alone at night in Hightown.

The two women were about fifty yards from the stairs to the Chantry when Hawke suddenly halted and put her forefinger over her lips, signaling to her mother to be quiet. Leandra looked around frantically, but she didn't see anyone else on the street.

"What's happening?" her mother asked, whispering.

"Shhh!" the daughter insisted, taking a defensive stance.

Since she had come back from the Deep Roads things had been so quiet that she had often been going out unarmed. Right now she could practically hear Fenris' angry voice in her head, scolding her for being reckless.  _Not without reason_ , she thought, shaking her head at her own stupidity.

Abruptly, she pushed her mother to the ground just in time for an arrow to miss the old woman by an inch.

"Run to the Chantry, Mother!"

Carta thugs start pouring out of every corner.

"Marian, what are you going to do? They are too many," Leandra said nervously.

"I'll buy you time to get to safety. Send Cullen and Sebastian here and stay in there," Hawke replied, as she quickly stepped out of her high-heels.

"Marian?" Leandra shot her a desperate look.

"GO! NOW!" the rogue yelled.

As her mother rushed towards the stairs, Hawke faded from view.

She came out of stealth behind one of the rogue thugs as she knocked him out with her shoe. Hastily she grabbed his daggers, finished him and vanished again just when arrows started flying in her direction.

The next time she appeared she was cutting the throat of one of the archers. The thug closest to her charged, but with one acrobatic jump, she landed behind him and rammed her blades in his back.

Three down. At least fifteen in sight. Hell, she was not going to make it.

* * *

Leandra was already on the top of the stairs when she heard her daughter's painful scream. She spared a glance over her shoulder, but all she saw was a bunch of raging dwarves.

Luckily, Sebastian and Cullen were talking in the Chantry hall, right near the entrance, when Leandra pushed the heavy door open and stormed inside, flushed, trembling and panting.

The men looked at her, startled.

"Serah Amell, what happened? Where's Ma–" Cullen began.

"Outside," she interrupted, breathlessly. "She needs help! Please!" she cried.

Readying their weapons, the templar and the Brother rushed out of the Chantry.

From the middle of the stairs Sebastian spotted Hawke as she was falling on her knees and shot an arrow right between the eyes of a thug that was about to bury his blade on her back.

Cullen felt his heart skip a beat and almost went back to kill the prince for taking such a risky shot.

The archer kept firing his arrows from a distance as the warrior reached his lover and stood in front of her, protecting her as he engaged the remaining foes.

The Knight-Captain was already fighting three dwarves at once when two more came out of stealth, flanking him. Hawke tried to get up on her feet to help, but there were deep bleeding cuts in her thighs and she couldn't find the strength to stand, so she tossed her daggers, hitting two of the foes right in the chest. With this last bit of effort, she crumbled on the ground, slipping out of consciousness seconds later.

When she next woke up she was lying in her bed. Anders was standing next to her and Cullen was pacing in front of the hearth.

"She's awake," the healer told the templar and took a step back.

Cullen rushed to kneel by the bed. "Baby, thank the Maker you're fine," he said as he softly stroked her cheek.

"I feel awful," she moaned.

"The wounds in your thighs were pretty bad," the mage said.

"Is it morning already? I can't believe I was out this long," she uttered, rubbing her eyes.

"You lost a lot of blood," the healer remarked. "I hear you went out unarmed."

"I just did it because I wanted to give you something more exciting to deal with than stomachaches and colds. I bet you've been bored to death this past year without having to heal me from nearly fatal wounds every other day," she joked.

"Sure, Hawke. It's a lot more fun when you're dying," he said, rolling his eyes. "I have to go back to the clinic, but I'll come by again later to check on you."

The templar accompanied the mage to the door. "Anders, thank you. You can rest assured that I –"

"I know, Cullen. Take care of her," the healer said.

As Anders was leaving, Bodahn came in with breakfast.

"It's good to see you're feeling better, Messere Hawke," the dwarf said cheerfully.

"Thank you, Bodahn. Can you please send word to Varric and Sebastian to come meet me here as soon as possible? I need to talk to them."

"Brother Sebastian is downstairs since last night, Messere," the dwarf replied.

"Oh? Make him some breakfast then, and after he eats, tell him to come up," she said, sitting up on the bed.

"Baby, are you sure you want to see them now? You need to rest," Cullen gave her a concerned look.

"I'm okay, love. By the way, thank you for saving me," she smiled.

"You know, you had already killed at least ten of them when I got there. And  _you_  saved me when you threw your daggers on those two that were trying to flank me. But when they were all dead and I had to carry you out of there…" his expression saddened. "Maker, there was so much blood…"

Suddenly he hugged her. "I was afraid I was going to lose you.

"Luckily I'm tall and they were all dwarves, or these cuts might have been on my chest and back and then I would be dead for sure," she remarked, her tone playful.

He shook his head and gave her a stern look for taking something so serious that lightly, but then she caught his lips with hers and could feel him smile as they kissed.

Minutes later, as she was finishing her breakfast, Varric and Sebastian came in.

"Hawke, it's good to see you in one piece! Choir Boy here told me dwarves attacked you. New gang for us to wipe out?" the storyteller asked.

"I don't think so, Varric. They were Carta," she answered.

"Carta? Here in Hightown? Are you sure?" the dwarf raised an eyebrow.

"They were after her. I looted this from one of the bodies," Sebastian said, showing them a piece of parchment.

Varric reached out and took it from him. "Let me see that, Choir Boy."

Hawke noticed the dwarf's expression turning grim as his eyes ran through the words in the note.

"Don't keep us in suspense. What does it say?" she asked, annoyed.

"The Carta… they're hunting you down, Hawke."

"Why?"

"I don't know, but I don't think it's just you they want."

"What do you mean?"

"I think they might come for Bethany too. Apparently they want to bring 'the blood of Hawke' to some place in the Vimmark Mountains," the dwarf uttered, handing the parchment over to her.

"I'm not going to sit here and wait for them to ambush me or my sister, Varric. We have to find out where they are, we have to get to them first."

"Good. Bianca is looking forward to some action."

"Let's gather our party at the Hanged Man tomorrow and see who's willing to go hiking in the mountains," she uttered.

* * *

The next day, at nightfall, Hawke arrived at the Hanged Man with Anders, Sebastian and Garrus. All her other companions were already there, sitting around the large table in Varric's room.

"The Vimmark Mountains extend for six hundred miles, Hawke. How are you going to find them?" Aveline said, once all had been explained and they all had seen the parchment.

"I'm not sure. I was hoping you could help me with that," Hawke answered.

"You don't think the Carta will give up after just one try, do you?" Isabela asked.

"No, I don't," Hawke replied.

"So we just have to wait for their next attack. We capture one of them alive and interrogate him," the pirate suggested.

"Sounds good. I have to start walking around more at night, make myself look like an easy target. That will surely attract them. But when they come for me, I'll be prepared," Hawke agreed.

"And hopefully not alone," Merrill added.

"If I take three or four armored people with me every time I go out, the Carta might think it's best to get me at home and that would put Mother, Bodahn and Sandal in danger. They have to come for me while I'm out on the street and the only way I can be sure that they'll do that is if I do make myself look like an easy target when I go out," Hawke asserted.

"That's too dangerous. They were over twenty when they ambushed you and failed. They'll probably come in an even larger number next time," the prince said.

"I won't be unarmed again, Sebastian," she replied, dismissively.

"Foolish, reckless woman," Fenris muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

"Are you insane? You almost died!" Anders protested.

"Us rogues can follow you without them noticing. When they attack you, we attack them," Varric suggested.

"Alright. If you are up to it…" she said.

"I am," Rivaini immediately agreed.

"Choir Boy?" Varric asked.

Sebastian turned to Hawke. "Are you sure that's what you want to do, lass?"

She nodded.

"Then you can count on me," he replied.

Anders huffed loudly as he raked his fingers through his hair in frustration. "At least take me with you, then," he said. "Seeing you limp and bloodied in Cullen's arms… I can't take it, Hawke."

"He means the part that you were in Cullen's arms. Seeing you half-dead doesn't bother him that much," Varric chuckled, making Anders blush and turn away, pouting.

* * *

Cullen was not happy to hear about the plan that not only used his girlfriend as bait, but also did not include him. However no matter what he said he couldn't manage to talk her out of it. Every night he would go to her estate and wait, praying and pacing, until she got back from her dangerous stroll.

It took a month for the Carta to try and ambush her again. It was late at night and she was talking to Anders at the empty Hightown Market. When the thugs attacked, Isabela, Varric and Sebastian came out of the shadows to help. Fenris had been following her from the rooftops every night since the moment she had agreed to this plan and also joined the fight.

The foes, though in greater number, didn't stand a chance against a fully prepared Hawke along with five of her capable companions. Fenris pommeled the leader – a Carta overseer –, knocking him out momentarily as Anders casted a glyph of paralysis to hold him in place. When all the other enemies were dead, Hawke and her friends brought the overseer to her estate, so they could interrogate him.

Making the goon talk wasn't hard. Once the elf's markings flared and he shoved his hand in the man's guts, the thug spilled every bit of information he knew and gave detailed directions to the Carta hideout in the Vimmark Mountains. When Hawke decided that she knew enough she signaled Fenris to kill the prisoner. It was crude, but if she let him go, he could warn the Carta that she was coming for them.

It was already very late, so she thanked her companions for their help and told them goodbye, before going to bed with Cullen.

* * *

Once she had decided on her course of action, she went to meet her party at the Hanged Man.

"So, Hawke, when do we leave?" the storyteller asked.

She smiled brightly at her loyal friend. "I'm glad you're up for this, Varric."

"You have to take more people," Aveline said.

"And you should wait at least until next Drakonis before you leave," Sebastian advised.

"True. Climbing mountains in the cold season is most unwise," Fenris uttered.

"Sitting here and waiting for them to attack me is not the smartest thing to do either," Hawke retorted.

"They are right and you know they are, Hawke. Why make this even more dangerous than it is?" the Guard-Captain remarked.

"I'll go with you any time you like, Hawke, but I agree we stand a better chance if we wait until Drakonis," the healer said.

"Thank you, Anders, but I won't take you away from your clinic again for who knows how long. People in Darktown need you more than I do. I have another mage in mind for this."

"Who? Me? Is it me? Please, let it be me. You never take me anywhere," the Dalish elf said, almost jumping on her feet, hoping to be picked.

"I'm sorry, Merrill. It's not you."

"Bethany?" Aveline asked.

Hawke nodded.

"How? The Knight-Commander will never let a mage go out just like that," the guardswoman said.

"All I have to do is convince Cullen and he'll work things out with Meredith," Hawke explained.

"Hmm… I know some very effective  _persuasion techniques_  you can use on Knight-Captain  _Hottie_ ," the pirate winked.

"Thanks, Isabela, but I don't think your  _help_  will be necessary," Hawke replied.

"Even if you convince him to let Bethany out, if you don't bring her back to the Circle when you return, that'll probably be the end for you and Cullen, Hawke," Aveline said in her concerned big-sister tone.

"I can't just go away from Kirkwall this long and leave Bethany here. The last time I did this… it was the worst mistake of my life," she sighed sadly.  _Top three worst, actually,_  she thought. "What if the Carta doesn't find me and decides to go after her? I don't think she's really safe anywhere but with me. If I can get her out and if we… survive, then I'll think about what to do next."

"About that, I think having a warrior with us might greatly improve our chances of survival," Varric said.

"Take me," Fenris offered.

"I appreciate it, Fenris, but I don't think it's a good idea. My sister has been through a lot already and –"

"I told you I can work with mages, Hawke. I did not lie," the elf said.

"Fine. But if you start giving her a hard time, I will kill you," Hawke said, staring into the elf's eyes, the most serious look on her face. "I mean it."

* * *

Cullen tried but he couldn't dissuade that stubborn woman from taking up such a dangerous quest and he hated that, being the Knight-Captain, he couldn't just abandon his duties and go with her. And when she told him she wanted to take Bethany with her…

They had been arguing for days on end now.

"You don't have to worry about her. She's safe in the Gallows," Cullen insisted for the hundredth time.

"No, she is not. It doesn't matter what you say or how good your intentions are, the only place she's really safe is with me," Hawke replied, also for the hundredth time.

"How come after all this time you still don't trust me? How many times have I told you that I'm watching out for her in there?" he hissed, angrily.

"I could say the same. How come  _you don't trust me_  when I tell you I'm bringing her back to the Circle when we return?" she retorted, waving her arms in the air in frustration.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "Marian, baby, I'm so tired of fighting."

"You know I'm going to do this whether or not you let my sister join me. It's not only her that is safer with me. I'm safer with her too. Anders can't go and without a mage my chances of coming back alive are… not so good…" she sighed, looking down.

"I can't believe you are playing this card. If I refuse you now and, Maker forbid, something happens to you… It's not fair that you would put me in this position," he uttered, disappointed.

Hawke wasn't exactly proud of herself for using that argument, but she wouldn't go away for what could be months and leave her sister in Kirkwall when there were people out there hunting the "blood of Hawke".

"I won't leave until Drakonis or maybe Cloudreach," she said as a peace offering.

"So you can still see reason? I'm surprised," he snorted. "I'll talk to the Knight-Commander. You'll have Bethany by then," he uttered bitterly and stormed out of her house.


	24. Ticket to Ride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legacy DLC

It was a good thing Hawke had listened to her companions and had decided not to go to the mountains during the cold season. Since the beginning of Haring, the weather had been especially nasty. There were no records of the temperature in Kirkwall ever reaching a lower average. It had been snowing relentlessly for weeks now, which was keeping everyone holed up inside their homes – thugs included. At least Hawke was having a break from the Carta attacks.

Cullen and her still hadn't cleared the air between them. They had spent First Day apart – he in the Chantry, she at the Hanged Man – each looking more miserable than the other. Sleeping alone after she had gotten used to spending the nights in his warm, loving embrace was making her feel colder in her bed than if she were lying naked on the snow blanketed rooftop of her estate.

It wouldn't be much longer until she left for the Carta hideout in the Vimmark Mountains, and she couldn't leave things unresolved with Cullen. Her relationship with him was the only thing in her life that made her feel like a normal woman. She needed that. She needed him.

Having decided to have him back in her bed that very night, she opened her front door to go in search of him, only to find him on the other side, about to knock.

It wasn't that much of a coincidence, though. For over a month he had been waiting for her to show up in the Gallows and say she was sorry, but during that time he had realized that even though she had disappointed him, he had never been as happy as he had been with her. He couldn't just let her go and was making a huge effort to try and see reason on the way she had behaved. More than anything, he wanted to forgive her – even if she didn't ask for his forgiveness – and forget that fight, just so he could come back to being happy again in her arms. For over a week now he had been going to her house in the evening and standing outside her door for long minutes as he tried to overcome the last remnants of his pride so he could apologize to her and ask her to have him back, even though deep down inside he knew it should be the other way around.

"Marian?" he said, startled.

"Cullen! I was just leaving for the Gallows. I… wanted to see you."

"I'm sorry," they both said at the same time.

She smiled. "I've missed you."

"I missed you too, baby. I know you have to go after the Carta. Staying here and waiting for them to attack… this is no way to live."

"Still I shouldn't have forced the issue about my sister upon you like that."

"All I want is for you to be safe. Bethany will be released to join you in your quest and I," he took a deep breath and continued, "trust you'll bring her back to the Circle when you return."

"Thank you, Cullen," she said softly, her gaze steady on his. "This means the world to me. And I really am sorry for arguing with you over this. I should have apologized sooner," she uttered and pulled him into a hug.

He didn't resist her. As he put his arms around her, she reveled in the familiar feel of his love and care. She had been missing that so badly…

"Would you like to come in?" she purred in his ear.

"There's nothing I'd like more," he replied, a smile spreading across his face.

* * *

It was not only until the beginning of Cloudreach that the weather improved. After Cullen brought news that the templars had apprehended Carta thugs in the Gallows and Garrus had chased some more off her garden, Hawke decided she couldn't wait a moment longer to go get them in their hideout. At the break of dawn, on the 5th, she went to the Circle along with Varric, Fenris, Leandra and Garrus to meet Cullen and pick up Bethany.

Leandra had tears of joy in her eyes the entire time during this brief reunion with her younger daughter. Though she wouldn't mention it in front of the Knight-Captain, she was sure Marian would never bring Bethany back to be locked up in the Circle and would certainly find a way for them to be together as a family again. Of course her older daughter's affection for the templar wouldn't topple her love for her sister.

Hawke told Garrus to take good care of Leandra and said goodbye to Cullen with a heated kiss.

The rogue wasn't sure what to expect from this encounter with her sister. As they made their way towards the mountains, they filled the silence with small talk. Both had a lot of serious issues they wanted to discuss with each other, but they wouldn't do it in front of Varric and Fenris.

When the night fell and they set camp, they had already reached the mountain range and had covered about a third of the way to the chasm where the Carta hideout was supposed to be located. Varric had warned them the area was a wasteland of sorts, so they had decided to carry only one tent for all of them to share, leaving more room for food and potions in their packs.

After dinner the siblings immediately retired to the tent so they could talk in privacy while the dwarf and the elf played cards by the fire.

"How are the templars treating you, Beth?" Hawke asked, pretending she wasn't about to fall on her knees and beg her sister to forgive her for having failed her so miserably.

"Wonderfully, thanks to you," Bethany answered, an unusually sarcastic tone in her voice.

Hawke looked at her surprised. "What do you mean?"

"I've always heard how bad things are for mages in the Circle and how abusive the templars can get, especially in Kirkwall. A mage can't sneeze in the Gallows without being threatened to be made tranquil. They are building twenty more solitary cells because the fifteen that already exist aren't enough anymore to satisfy the Knight-Commander's need to punish us. Not only that but there are some templars that torture and rape mages. Everyone knows who they are but no one does anything about it. The Knight-Commander,  _your_  Knight-Captain and even the First-Enchanter turn a blind-eye on these abuses," Bethany said harshly.

Hawke felt the sting of tears in her eyes. "Did they do anything to you? I'll tear that place down if they did, Beth. You don't have to go back there. I have coin now. We can go anywhere," she said, her tone half pleading, half angry.

"Of course you must know none of that has ever happened to me…" Bethany uttered, watching her sister's expression intently, looking for any changes that could confirm her suspicions.

Hawke sighed, somewhat relieved. "Cullen promised me he would look out for you in there, but I don't know why I can't get myself to completely trust him."

"So it's true? You are sleeping with him for my sake?" she looked at her older sister with a mixture of sadness and revulsion in her eyes, making Hawke feel as if she had been stabbed in the heart.

"It's nothing like that. We've been together for over a year now. We are even talking about marriage… I would do anything to keep you safe, sis… even this if I had to. But Cullen and I, we really like each other," she tried to explain.

"Many templars say horrible things to me about you, Marian. They say I should thank the Maker my sister is… the Knight-Captain's… w-whore or…" she sobbed. "They don't touch me, but they threaten me and say these things about you… As much as I hate that you have to do this for me, I'm afraid of what might happen if you don't… And I hate myself for thinking this. You deserve better, sister," the mage buried her face in her palms.

"Bethany, I told you I like Cullen. I love him, that's why we're together," Hawke said, reaching out a hand to console her sister, but the mage pushed it away.

"No, you said you would run away with me if I want to. You said I don't need to go back to the Circle. You didn't even consider him when you said those things. And Arthur's engagement ring is still on your finger. You don't fool me, Marian. I'm not your clueless little sister anymore. You are sleeping with him to keep me safe and this makes me hate you and myself," Bethany snapped, tears running copiously down her face.

* * *

The elf had already lost five matches of Wicked Grace in a row to the dwarf, all his attention directed to the conversation the sisters were having inside the nearby tent. Suddenly Hawke stormed out and stalked past them without even sparing a glance in their direction, rushing towards the darkness.

"Go!" Varric said, waving Fenris off after her. "I'll talk to Sunshine."

The warrior complied and jumped on his feet. When he reached her, she was sitting on the ground, shoulders slumped, knees against her chest, sobbing as he hadn't ever thought she was capable of.

Cautiously, he sat by her side, keeping a polite distance between them. Then he hesitantly started stretching his arm to lay a hand on her shoulder.

She wiped up her tears and gave him and irritated look. "Damn it, elf! If you're still this afraid to touch me why are you even here?"

He quickly pulled back, unsure of what to say.

"Well?" she hissed, upset that he had caught her so vulnerable.

He had nothing. He completely agreed with the accusations Bethany had thrown her way, but he knew best than to talk about that now; after all, he had gone there to comfort her. So he kept his mouth shut and scooted over to her side until their bodies were barely touching each other.

Hawke gave him a searching look, noting the way his body had tensed, and the way he seemed to be holding his breath. But he was there, offering her whatever comfort he could. From a man with an aversion to being touched, it was saying a lot.

She took a deep breath, swallowing back the remainder of her tears. "How much did you hear?" she asked.

"All of it," he admitted. "… this name you call in your sleep…"

She rubbed a finger over the hawk carved in her ring.

"…was he your fiancé?" he continued.

"Yes," she sighed and hastily thought of something else say to change the subject. "You're stiff as a board," she forced a laugh and nudged him on the ribs with her elbow.

He fidgeted and tried to relax, but he just couldn't.

She noticed his discomfort and shook her head. "Look, Fenris, you don't have to do this."

Realizing she was about to stand up and leave, he replied, "I want to." And this time he didn't hesitate one second before wrapping his arms around her and holding her closely.

She welcomed his embrace and leaned into him, her head pressed against the side of his neck, her warm breath washing over the sensitive skin of his throat. He couldn't resist resting his chin in her hair as he inhaled her scent. The way she fit in his arms it was like she was made to be there and he resented having yelled at her that day when they were returning from the Deep Roads. How much had he lost because of that tantrum? Thanks to that he had had no option but to sit back and watch in agony as she had slept half-naked and cuddled with the abomination and the dwarf. He could have been the one to keep her warm those nights… and then he had told her all the wrong things when Bethany was taken to the Gallows. That time it had been even worse for Varric and Anders had failed her too. None of them had watched over her. They all had stayed back and let her sell herself to the Knight-Captain for the sake of her sister.

"I'm tired. Let's go get some sleep," she murmured after long minutes in his arms, breaking his train of thought.

Gently, he disentangled himself from her and helped her up. They walked back to the camp and got into the tent, leaving the first watch to Varric.

* * *

At daybreak, Bethany – who had been last on guard duty – came into the tent to wake up the others so they could continue their journey.

As Hawke idly came out of her slumber she had the feeling there was an arm around her. By the time she was fully awake and aware though, all she saw was Varric getting dressed and a glimpse of Fenris walking out of the tent.

Even under a punishing sun and having to endure an awfully dry weather, they managed to make good progress on their second day of travel. During most of the time Varric and Fenris had talked to Bethany, asking her questions about Lothering, her family's flight from Ferelden and Carver's death. Getting straight answers from the mage was much easier than from her older sister and the men took advantage of that.

Though upset that the girl was getting in too much detail with them, Hawke kept it to herself. Or that was what she was doing until the dwarf started testing her patience.

"And what about this Arthur? What exactly happened to him?" he asked.

"He was Marian's sweetheart since they were kids. He died at Ostagar," Bethany answered and seeing that Varric's questioning look had not waned, she added, "I don't know how. She has never talked about it."

"It must have been hard," the dwarf uttered.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Hawke," the elf said.

She rolled her eyes and breathed out heavily. "Can we please not talk about this?"

"Your sleep has been oddly peaceful," the dwarf remarked.

"How could you know that? We shared a tent for one night," she retorted.

"Have you ever told Cullen about Arthur?" he asked.

"No," she said simply.

"Has he ever asked?"

"No."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think that if you had been calling another man's name in your sleep, your boyfriend would have wanted to know who this guy was. So I guess you're not having nightmares anymore," Varric explained.

"You know what, you may all think I'm just… whoring myself out to the Knight-Captain," she spat, "but the truth is that he makes me feel loved and safe. I don't always like to be one of the boys. He treats me like a woman. A  _normal_  woman. Yes, the nightmares ceased and it's thanks to him. I fucking love him! Now can we please drop this?" she bellowed and increasing her pace, quickly put some distance between her and her companions.

After her outburst there wasn't much talking anymore. Apart from running into a merchant's guild caravan that had been attacked by the Carta – which was odd, because though they were criminals, they never targeted other dwarves – the rest of the day passed uneventfully.

The next morning they were raising camp when Fenris stilled and signaled them all to be quiet.

"I think someone is watching us," he whispered and then they heard shouting and running.

Hastily they stuffed everything in their packs and rushed to follow the noise. It led them to a dwarf who was willing to talk, though not that much. He mentioned Malcolm Hawke, but before anything could really be explained, Hawke and her companions were attacked by more Carta thugs. They easily dealt with the foes and kept pressing forward in the Vimmark Wasteland, the sisters even more eager to find some answers now.

Not much later they had to fight their way through another ambush. That place definitely wasn't safe and when they set camp that night, Hawke decided it was best if they stood watch in pairs.

Fenris cursed under his breath when she paired him with the dwarf without even giving anyone a chance of saying something in the matter. Though she noticed the displeased look on the elf's face, she didn't give it much thought. It was not like it was unusual to see him brooding. At any rate, she really needed this time alone with Bethany, so they could clear the air between them.

During their watch, the sisters had five straight hours to talk. Most of which were filled with Bethany weeping about Hawke having to sleep with the Knight-Captain in exchange for her safety mixed with the retelling of the atrocious things she witnessed templars doing to mages in the Gallows. Feeling utterly frustrated, Hawke finally gave up on the matter of convincing Bethany she was not a whore and switched to more inconsequential subjects. However, now she couldn't stop thinking that if things didn't work out with Cullen, her sister would be in danger in the Circle.  _Damn!_  Suddenly being with him didn't feel like a choice anymore, but an obligation. She would have to stay with him. And keep him pleased so he would want to stay with her too.  _What have I done? I really am his… Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!_  This was the one relationship she had had that was normal, where she had been given the love and affection she craved, or at least that was what she had thought. She had gotten it all wrong. Mistaking  _that_  for love… that's how needy she was… _Pathetic!_

* * *

By midday the four companions had reached the Vimmark Chasm where they found some sort of fortress. Hawke was thankful for all the traps, brontos and crazed dwarves they ran into while exploring the place. At least it was a distraction from her thoughts of how shitty her life had become all of sudden.

By sundown they were already inside the Carta hideout. The rogues were walking two steps ahead of the warrior and the mage to spot and disarm the many traps that were laid on their path.

Hawke found a note and smirked as she read it. "I guess they failed at the 'do not spill Hawke's blood' part," she commented.

"Maybe that's why they went for the legs. They didn't want to kill you," Varric pointed out.

"Still, they got me pretty bad. The way I was bleeding, I'd be dead before they would be able to carry me out of Hightown," she replied and passed the note over to Varric.

"Hey, they even mention me here: 'the young dwarf who sees things'. I'm flattered," the storyteller chuckled.

"I think they mean Sandal…" she said.

"Let me have my moment, Hawke. This quest is all about you. It's getting boring," Varric jested and passed the note over to Fenris.

The elf pretended not to see it, but then the dwarf practically shoved the thing in his hand and he had no other option but to take it. His face immediately contorted with distress and discomfort and he looked at the piece of parchment for no more than two seconds before passing it on to Bethany.

Hawke furrowed her eyebrows, a questioning look on her face. When she realized he was avoiding meeting her gaze, she just shrugged and led them forward. Probably he was pissed about something she had said or a spell Bethany casted. Whatever. It was best to leave him be. There was no time to deal with that kind of stuff right now anyway.

The more Hawke and her companions advanced in that place the weirdest it got. Armored brontos, dwarves talking about drinking blood… when they thought it couldn't get any weirder, Varric found an acquaintance among all those lunatics.

Just like all the other crazed dwarves they had met before, Gerav had murky, foggy eyes and Hawke was happy to see how Varric did not hesitate in putting an arrow through his heart. She even remarked at the irony that the man who had crafted Bianca was killed by her, though Varric wasn't amused at all. That was a first. When they next found some peace and quiet she decided she was going to talk to him about his friend's death and make sure he was okay.

Unfortunately the thugs seemed to never stop coming. It was morning already when Hawke and her band finished off Rhatigan, the Carta leader.

As Varric and Fenris gathered around Bethany for healing, Hawke limped her way to Rhatigan's body and got from him the most wicked dagger she had ever seen. The instant she put her hands on the blade, she felt like it connected with her somehow and that she was meant to own it.

"Marian, your arm! You're bleeding!" Bethany tried to send some healing magic towards her sister, but her mana was completely drained. "Varric, get me a lyrium potion, quick," she said and turned back to Hawke. "When you didn't come over for healing after the battle I thought you were okay."

"There's no need to fuss over me, Beth. I'm fine. It's just that… I felt drawn to this weapon. This is going to take me to Corypheus. I… I think it was father's," Hawke said and her companions shot her bewildered looks, probably wondering if she had lost her mind.

"Sure, Hawke. We're all eager to do what the dagger says," Varric replied sarcastically. "But let's get some rest first."

She complied. Exhausted from spending a whole day and night fighting incessantly, they would have to sleep there. It wasn't safe, but taking on up more foes in the state they were in would be foolish.

They didn't set up camp, only spread their bedrolls on the darkest corner they could find while the dwarf took the first watch and reactivated all the traps to buy them time in case more enemies showed up.

* * *

Down and forward they went, fighting demons and darkspawn, following an undead Grey Warden, hearing voices… Their father's voice, Hawke and Bethany recognized it. With every unsettling bit of information they uncovered Hawke grew more and more concerned. All that talk about blood, her blood… Something was very wrong in that place.

Hawke was certain Varric would understand, no matter what it was they were going to uncover there. But Fenris… They weren't even sure if her father actually was a blood mage and the elf was already saying she shouldn't make the same mistakes Malcolm had made. That annoying broody elf! She was probably going to regret bringing him along in this quest.

After four days of very little sleep, a lot of fighting and having to endure Larius' demented rambling, the companions were strained and stressed. When they ran into the Grey Warden Janeka, Hawke was relieved. Janeka was the first sane person they had met in that place and the rogue took the opportunity to get some straight answers for a change.

"The Grey Wardens built this prison to contain one of the most powerful darkspawn we've ever encountered. But even the best magic fades. The Wardens need to reinforce the seals. This requires the blood of a mage untainted by… Warden training. The last to perform the ritual was you father," Janeka explained.

Hawke knew exactly what that meant: her father was a blood mage.

Learning that didn't change anything in the way she felt about him, though. He was a man willing to do anything to be with his family and protect them and, unlike her, he had never failed them. He had done what had to be done and she admired him for that.

"We need your help, Hawke," Janeka continued. "I have done extensive research on this darkspawn and I believe the original Wardens were wrong. He isn't a threat to humanity – he's our greatest opportunity. A darkspawn who can talk, feel, reason…"

"Corypheus cares nothing for Blights. He used you!" Larius chimed in.

"Don't listen to this… creature. He's half darkspawn himself," Janeka retorted. "I know how to harness Corypheus, use his magic to end the Blights."

That certainly piqued Hawke's interest. Even when Janeka told her that more blood magic would have to be used and it became clear that the Warden mage was working with the Carta to bring the "blood of the Hawke" to this place, the rogue still couldn't dismiss that possibility. The last Blight had been a short one thanks to the Fereldan Grey Wardens, but even so, what she had witnessed in Ostagar, the destruction of Lothering, the thousands of people dead in Ferelden alone… if there was a chance setting this Corypheus free could prevent that from happening again, she had to take it, right?

"No! The Wardens knew. Corypheus is too powerful," Larius protested.

The rogue wished she had brought Anders along to aid her in this decision. Being a Warden, a mage and her friend his opinion would be much more reliable than those of a mad Warden against a power-hungry one.

Noticing her older sister was entertaining the idea of performing the blood ritual to free Corypheus, Bethany tried to reason with her, "Don't you think Father would have considered this, done the research? If this creature could really be of help, he would have let it free. Thrust that he was right when he chose to help keep it imprisoned here, Marian."

"A darkspawn and a mage. Just what the world needs," Fenris hissed with contempt.

"It's worth the risk. If he doesn't help, it's one more big darkspawn to stick a bolt in. No big deal," Varric gave his opinion and it was just the push Hawke needed to side with Janeka. It really was worth the risk.

The elf snorted. "These are just convenient excuses for the use of blood magic. You don't know if this will work or if there is any truth to what she's telling you, Hawke. No good can come from this, I'm warning you," he grumbled, anger in his voice and disappointment in his eyes.

"Enough, Fenris. Larius is a madman. Let's use every weapon we have against the Blight," Hawke cut him off.

He muttered a curse in Arcanum which she chose to ignore. When they next had a break, she would talk to him. After she managed to talk to Varric about his deceased friend, of course. And to Bethany, who had been scowling at her sister for agreeing to take part in this blood ritual. Shit, everybody was on the edge. If they didn't catch a break soon they would fall apart…

With Janeka leading them, they pressed forward on to the next floor of the prison.


	25. Carry That Weight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Legacy DLC. More Fenris.

The floor they were crossing now was like a maze, with many of its doorways and passages blocked by magical barriers that had to be deactivated as they went, one at a time. It was confusing and every time they reached a dead end, or found themselves in a room where they had been before, it made them all the more tense.

Hours later, when they had finally managed to get out of the maze, in an attempt to delay them further, Larius activated three golems to fight them. As retaliation, Janeka hastily summoned a revenant and four emissaries and sent them after him and his group of Wardens.

Staying up all night and witnessing Janeka summoning those creatures did not help at all to ease the tension among Hawke and her companions. The air was so heavy among them that after the golems had been downed, they all stood there glaring, blades and staves in hand, prepared to attack each other.

Fenris was especially angry. He seemed ready and eager to tear Janeka's heart out. And she was just as eager to see him try, a daring look on her face.

"I'm hungry. Let's have a break for dinner. Or is it lunch?" Varric said trying to lighten up the mood but still not lowering Bianca.

"It's best if we do not waste any time," the Warden mage replied.

"We can't put that much of a fight on empty stomachs. Sit down, everyone. Let's eat," Varric said and after a few more minutes of tension they all slowly sheathed their weapons.

Cooking grains would take too long so they just ate some smoked meat, dried fruits, nuts and crackers.

Another couple of hours walking and they reached Corypheus' prison. However, Larius and his Wardens intercepted them before they could free the talking darkspawn.

"You can't stop me, Larius. The Wardens will see I'm right about this. With Corypheus' power we can end the Blights forever," Janeka uttered.

"Hawke, you must listen! Janeka is blind to the truth! Corypheus is using her!" the crazed Warden pleaded.

"One step closer and you're dead," Hawke told Larius, her tone menacing. She had come this far, she was going to see this through.

He wasn't willing to back out though, and attacked them with the help of his fellow Wardens.

Larius was a madman and Hawke felt no remorse for killing him, but the other three men… Grey Wardens were very much needed in Thedas. The price for setting Corypheus free was getting too high.  _Janeka best be right about this_ , she thought.

The rogue began the ritual by deactivating the containment pillars surrounding the prison and then stood in the middle of the room. Instead of using one of her daggers, she got one of her smaller backup knives. Her left arm was shaking slightly as she stretched it to bring it closer to the blade at ready on her right hand.

She spared a glance at her companions. Varric and Janeka were looking back at her expectantly. Bethany was shaking her head, tears welling up in her eyes. Fenris… Fenris was fuming; markings glowing, eyes narrowed to slits, nostrils flaring, fists clenched…  _If this goes badly and we survive, he'll probably kill me_ , Hawke thought and immediately shook the thought off as she took a deep, steadying breath and drove the knife across her wrist.

Her blood trickled down on the floor and the room lit up. The dagger she had gotten from Rhatigan seemed to respond to whatever it was that was happening and suddenly Hawke was thrown on the ground as Corypheus emerged from his prison.

She was relieved to see how Bethany did not hesitate on sending healing magic her way. Not that she needed it that much, but it was good to know her sister remained loyal.

Janeka stepped forward to use the spell that would bind Corypheus to her will, but he blocked it and knocked her down.

"Be this some dream I wake from? Am I in dwarven lands? Why seem their roads so empty?" he spoke and then pointed at Hawke. "You! Serve you at the temple of Dumat? Bring me hence! I must speak with the first acolyte!"

Well, he was a talking darkspawn indeed, but he wasn't making much sense.

"The Wardens… they captured Corypheus just after the First Blight. This was part of the Imperium then," Janeka explained.

"You look human," the darkspawn continued. "Are you not citizens of the Empire? Slaves, then, to the dwarves? Why come you here? Whoever you be, you owe fealty to any magister of Tevinter. On your knees! All of you!"

_Fenris must be loving this guy_ , Hawke thought, half expecting the elf's hand through her chest any minute now.

"You are what held me. I smell the blood in you," the creature told her and she shot a worried glance at Varric.

The dwarf nodded in silent understanding. Corypheus was not the solution to end the Blights – he was another big darkspawn for them to stick a bolt in.

"Dumat! Lord! Tell me. What waking dream is this? The light. We sought the golden light. You offered… the power of the gods themselves. But it was… black… corrupt. Darkness… ever since. How long?" Corypheus asked.

Hawke could not believe her ears. The creature was speaking of the Golden City. Was he one of the mages who supposedly violated the Maker's sacred space and became the first darkspawn? Wasn't that just some story the Chantry had made up? The mages had really done that? What the fuck!

"The original magisters? It is their depravities the magisters of today strive to live up to. If they still exist, in any form, we should wipe them from the face of Thedas," Fenris snarled, his face contorted with anger and hate that seemed to be directed at Hawke more than at Corypheus by the way his eyes were locked on hers as he spoke.

It was a good thing she agreed with him in this or she would surely have to fight the elf for her life right then and there.

"The city! It was supposed to be golden! It was supposed to be ours! If I cannot leave with you, I will leave through you! I seek the light!" Corypheus uttered as he readied to attack.

Janeka admitted she was wrong and fled the room an instant before the ancient darkspawn sealed it, leaving the four companions trapped with him in there.

Hawke wouldn't leave the place without killing that monster first anyway, but it bothered her that the Warden she had chosen to follow and trust was such a coward.

"Focus on healing us, Bethany. You and Varric stay behind me and Fenris. We have to stay close to each other and attack him all at once when we have the chance. Hit and run, people so we have room and time to dodge his spells," she issued the orders and ran towards the creature.

He was a powerful enemy, but they managed to connect a few blows without being injured. That was until he started channeling walls of fire across the room.

"Keep clear of the flames! Sometimes I hate having short legs," Varric shouted.

They couldn't come closer to Corypheus with all that fire around. Trying to avoid being burned, they ran to one of the alcoves that held the containment pillars. "Let's see what happens when I do this," Hawke said as she activated the pillar.

It worked to hurt Corypheus but now they had shades to fight too. By the time they had activated the last pillar, Varric was no longer with them. His worry about his short legs had proven correct.

Again they had the chance to engage Corypheus in close combat. Hawke diverted her attention from him for just a second as she looked for the dwarf and the foe hit her, throwing her on the ground.

"Pay attention, Hawke! I really don't want this story to end 'And they got all splattered'," Varric said through labored breaths as he threw away an empty flask and limped towards his friends.

"Stay behind, dwarf. Bethany, help him," she replied, getting back on her feet and readying another attack.

Rocks erupted from the ground, making it harder and slower for them to move around the room and keeping them separated – Fenris and Hawke on one side and Bethany and Varric on the opposite side. The ancient darkspawn produced the fire beams again and the companions ran straight to the pillars. Bethany got two of them and Hawke the other two. They reunited for another round of closed ranged attacks on Corypheus.

"I was just thinking, 'What is missing here? A giant storm, of course!' If he pulls a dragon out of his ass, I'm leaving," Varric remarked as the foe hit them with lightning and ice. And more fire.

The shades this time were harder to kill or maybe it was them that were tiring.

When Hawke finished activating the pillars she heard Fenris shout, "Your sister has fallen." She looked back but couldn't see where Bethany was. Also, there were no bolts flying across the room anymore, which meant Varric had fallen too.  _Shit!_  She had to end this quickly. The opening to hit Corypheus was a short one and could not be wasted, so she rushed towards him. At least the creature was looking weary now.

Still he hit Fenris and her with a powerful blast of magic that sent them rolling several feet on the ground, through the fire, until they collided painfully with the erupted rocks. Hawke spared a glance on the elf's direction as she tried to get back on her feet. There was a bleeding wound at the back of his head and he was lying flat on his stomach, knocked out. It was up to her to finish the magister.

Exhausted and injured, she downed potions as he readied another spell. Still, the pain from the burns on her skin was too much. The moment the fireball left his hands, she gave the last of her reserves to jump acrobatically over the fire, landing right in front of him. She hit him across the chest with her dagger, causing him to stumble backwards and fall on his knees. When he looked up, she tossed her blade right between his eyes.

It was over, but Hawke wasn't done. She yanked her blade out of his skull and did not sheath it as she stalked towards Janeka.

"Heal them, you cowardly, spineless bitch!" she ordered, gritting her teeth and pointing her dagger to the Warden mage's neck.

"Hawke, I-I'm so sor-"

"Now!" she snarled. "And if any of them dies, I will kill you!"

Janeka went back inside the room with Hawke and used group heal to make sure everyone would live, but she still would have to tend to each of them individually.

"My sister first," Hawke told Janeka and went over to check on Varric.

The dwarf was slipping in and out of consciousness from the pain of the burns in his feet and legs. It was hard to tell what were melted parts of his clothes and boots and what was his skin. She made him drink a health potion and carried him over to where Janeka was healing Bethany.

Next she went to see Fenris. He was still knocked out, but his head wound wasn't bleeding anymore. She carefully turned him on his back and started removing his armor to make him more comfortable. Luckily he had had only superficial scorches.

"I'm sorry, Fenris. You were right. I should've never agreed to this foul ritual," she whispered as she tenderly brushed his hair off his face.

"Stubborn woman," he mumbled, making her smile.

She helped him drink a potion and even though he lifted his head just enough not to choke on it, he growled in pain.

She stretched her legs and put his head to rest on her lap. He moaned softly and closed his eyes as she caressed his face and hair, wishing there was more she could to make him feel better and to make up for her mistake.

Bethany was fine now and took over Varric's healing so Janeka could go over to Fenris.

"I feel like such a fool," the Warden mage said as she started working on the elf's wounds. "I really thought I could do it. It never… entered my mind that Corypheus had planted that thought. I should not have been so weak."

Hawke wanted to yell at the woman, scold her. Hell, she wanted to beat her senseless, but she couldn't. She had been fooled too.

"I'll return to the commander, report on what happened here. Then it's time for me to take the long walk," Janeka continued.

No one else seemed to be at risk anymore. Varric and Fenris still were in pretty bad shape, but Bethany was fine enough to take care of them, so Janeka took her leave. She said goodbye to them and turned to Hawke, "My gratitude you have for returning me to myself. I feel like… a whole new person."

With that the Warden was gone.

The tower appeared to be safe now and the four companions really needed to eat and sleep properly so Hawke set up camp right there. To make the room less ominous Bethany used a spell to push Corypheus' body far away from them and set it on fire.

The rogue dragged the men to their bedrolls and undressed them so Bethany and her could clean them and make them more comfortable. She didn't remove Fenris' leggings though, knowing the elf wasn't okay with getting naked in front of them.

He kept his eyes shut the entire time as Hawke gingerly ran a damp cloth on his body. His breathing was relaxed and sometimes she noticed his eyelids fluttering. She wondered if he was sleeping or just enjoying being taken care of.

When she was finished she made him drink another health potion and left the tent to prepare them a hot meal. Minutes later Fenris joined her by the fire.

"You should rest," Hawke uttered.

"I am fine. I… I wanted to thank you," he said.

"Really? What for?" she asked, genuinely confused.

"For tending to my wounds," he replied.

"Janeka did most of the work and…" she sighed, "Look, Fenris, I'm really sorry for putting you through this. This… shouldn't have happened. I should have listened to you, to Bethany…"

"You should. Is it too much to hope that you will not do this again?"

"What? Take part in a blood ritual? Free ancient magisters? Trust a mage?"

"Not listen to me," he replied, a smug smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Hawke laughed, amused with his answer, his barely-there smile, his lack of shirt… Hastily she diverted her eyes from him. He was probably going to be mad at her for the way her gaze had lingered a moment too long on the markings on his chest. She couldn't help it, they were beautiful. But she knew better than to show any appreciation for them, given the way he had reacted the last time that she had.

Fenris noticed the movement of her eyes – how they had gone from his own to his mouth and then to his bare chest and how she had turned away, slightly embarrassed – and again he remembered the day they had left the Deep Roads. What would have happened if he hadn't yelled at her, where they would have gone from there?

"Here," Hawke handed him a small wooden bowl of soup and went over to the tent, sticking her head inside to tell the others dinner was ready.

Bethany went over to the fire and filled a bowl for her and one for Varric.

"How is he?" Hawke asked.

"Getting better, but the burns were pretty bad. How are our supplies?" Bethany asked.

"We have food for another twenty days. Even more if we start saving," Hawke answered.

"Good. He can't walk yet. We'll have to stay here for a little longer," the mage replied.

Hawke hung her head. This was all her fault.

"You're not to blame, Hawke. He wanted to free that magister too," Fenris said, as if he had read her mind.

She smiled at the elf and looked up to her sister. "Thank you for taking care of him. I'm glad you came, Beth. And I'm sorry for… everything."

"What is done, is done, sis. The important thing is that we survived," the mage replied. "It's amazing how the past haunts us. All this hardship because of what happened so many years ago… Did Father think it was worth it? He certainly knew it was too shameful to mention."

"It gets harder every year to remember what Father was like," Hawke sighed sadly.

"I thought he knew everything. You know, as much as he had to spend time training me, he was so proud of you and Carver. He'd still be proud, even after all this," the girl said with a small smile and went back in the tent with the bowls of soup.

* * *

For the next five days they remained in the tower. Hawke and Fenris were taking turns on guard duty and cooking their meals while Bethany took care of Varric. On the sixth day after they had defeated Corypheus, they finally started their walk back home. At least there were no more enemies inside the tower, which allowed them to progress rather quickly. When they reached the Carta hideout, they set camp for the night.

"Beth, have you thought about what you want to do? I meant it when I said you don't have to go back to the Gallows. We can get Mother and run away. You shouldn't even go back to Kirkwall. It's too risky. You can wait for us in Ostwick. I'll go get Mother and Garrus and we'll meet you there," Hawke told her sister, over dinner, in front of their other companions. It was impossible to have privacy anyway in a small camp with one tent, a nosy dwarf and an elf with superhuman hearing.

The men even stopped eating as they stared intently at Bethany, waiting for her answer.

"I can't do this to Mother. She is so happy with the estate and the title. I can't take that away from her. It's not fair after all she's been through," the mage replied.

"Mother would rather see you free and have the little family she has left back together than be a noble. She abandoned all this once already, for Father. She would do it for you too, sister," Hawke insisted.

"I don't want her to go through all this again. She has a life in Kirkwall and so do you. Didn't you say I was wrong? That you love the Knight-Captain, that you might even marry him?" Bethany sighed sadly. "I sincerely wish I could believe that. It would make me feel much better about… me, you and this whole situation," she said in earnest.

"I… don't know anymore. Maybe you were right, sis. Cullen and I are not what I thought we were," Hawke admitted and she sounded so defeated that Varric reached for her hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

He noticed Fenris had also motioned to touch her, but retreated when the dwarf beat him to it, so he gave the elf a knowing look and turned to Bethany, "Sunshine, my feet still hurt. Can you help me get back to the tent? And maybe take another look?"

The mage complied, getting in the tent with him and leaving Hawke and Fenris alone.

"Bethany is right – we can't do this to Mother, we can't force her to be on the run again," she said, staring pensively at the flickering flames of their campfire. "I'm such a fool, Fenris. I was wrong about everything…"

The elf didn't exactly disagree with that, so he just got closer to her and held her hand in his.

"For a moment there I thought I could have normal life. With the Knight-Captain," she snorted. "How could I be so blind?"

He tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, causing her to stop staring at the fire and look at him. "What should I do?" she asked.

"Whatever I say, you will probably do the opposite," he teased, making her smile brightly at him.

"I've missed this," she said, waving an arm around.

"What? Being attacked by dwarves? Stumbling upon ancient riddles? Madness?" he asked.

"Fighting, killing. Getting hurt even. Camping. Spending time with my friends… Maybe having a normal life isn't for me…" she sighed and he felt her breath on his lips. Since when were they this close to each other?

"Normal is not for you, Hawke. Everything about you is… special," he replied, his gaze steady on hers.

She was not expecting he would say something like that, so nice and… flirty. Surprise and amusement caused her lips to part invitingly.

His gaze lowered to her mouth and… Maker, he wanted to kiss her. But he couldn't, because… because… he knew there were good reasons for him not do that, but he couldn't remember any of them right now.

"Marian, is my bag of herbs out there?" Bethany asked, sticking her head out of the tent.

Hawke snapped her head towards her sister and got up abruptly, looking flustered and confused about what had almost just happened.

The moment was ruined and Fenris could finally remember the reasons not to kiss her: she belonged to another man; she was nobility and he was an elf and an escaped slave; she was still wearing her late fiancé's ring… well, the latter wasn't that much of a reason. He too had a lot of unresolved issues from his past.

"Thank you for bringing me along, Hawke," he said as she was walking into the tent with the blasted bag of herbs.

She stopped and looked back at him. "Is there a reason I wouldn't?"

"I am just... pleased. To see you. That's all," he replied.

"Very smooth, Broody," Varric yelled from inside the tent, chuckling.

* * *

The following days, as they made their way through the Vimmark chasm and wasteland, Hawke and Fenris kept a safe distance from each other. She was not sure about what was going on between them and things were already too complicated with Cullen and Bethany. It was best to start solving a few of her problems, before adding new ones. As for the elf, he was trying to focus on his reasons not to get involved with her instead of creating opportunities to get closer to her. No matter how much he wanted her, he wasn't the right man for her. She deserved better.

When they arrived in Kirkwall, Hawke convinced Bethany to spend the night at their estate and leave for the Gallows the next morning, so Leandra could be reunited with her small family again.

It was late when they got in the house. Bodahn and Sandal had already retired for the evening, but Garrus was awake by the door and greeted them cheerfully. His happy barks caused Leandra to come out from her room and she ran to hug her daughters.

"It was awful, Mother, but it's over. Father's work won't haunt us," Bethany said with tears in her eyes.

"But he was there? In the past?" the old woman asked, confused.

"Buying freedom for you. So you could have a life together," the mage replied.

"Oh, Malcolm," the mother sighed. "I can't believe… It's like he's still with us, but it's not true. Not really. He went through so much to protect us. I wish he had shared the burden."

"How did the heir to the Amells ever meet a Fereldan apostate anyway?" Hawke asked.

"Let's go over to the kitchen. I'll heat you dinner while I tell you our story," Leandra answered with a kind smile on her face.

The siblings followed her and sat on the kitchen table.

"He wasn't an apostate then," the mother started. "He was a junior enchanter at the Gallows, back when they would perform at the Viscount's functions. I'd always believed mages were grim old men in strange robes, but Malcolm was… He was young, strong, never considered himself anything but the equal of every men there. And they all knew it and hated him for it. We, ah, found ways to meet more privately after that."

"You were the most important thing to him," Bethany said.

"You could hear that in every word he said," Hawke added.

"I just wish he was still here. I've made such a muck of it since he's been gone," Leandra uttered sadly.

"The Blight would have pushed us here no matter what. Father couldn't have stopped that," the mage said, trying to console her mother.

"He could have kept Carver alive. I couldn't. I… I can't do this now. It's too hard, remembering a time before we'd lost anything. I don't know what to regret first," Leandra said, dropping the spoon she was holding inside the pan and leaving the kitchen.

Bethany went after her and Hawke just stayed there, looking down, feeling utterly frustrated at her inability to make her mother happy. And the woman didn't even know her younger daughter was going back to the Circle. How was she going to react to that?


	26. Yesterday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everything goes wrong.  
> Mentions of rape and torture (but with no details or descriptions).

As Hawke got closer to her mother's room, she could hear the woman sobbing. Bethany had probably told her already she would be coming back to the Circle.

"Marian, please. Don't let her do this. She has to stay with us," Leandra wept when she spotted her older daughter.

"Bethany is doing this for you, Mother. If she doesn't go back, the templars will come for her and for us. We'll have to be on the run again and that wouldn't be fair to you. You have sacrificed a lot for us already," Hawke explained, her tone gentle.

It was a long night. Eventually, Leandra cried herself to sleep. The mage stayed with her, holding her until morning and then took her leave.

* * *

When Hawke arrived at the Gallows with her sister, Cullen felt utterly relieved. Though he had told his lover he trusted her, he never really did. Seeing her keep her end of their deal was the sign he was waiting for to finally propose.

On his next day off he went shopping for an engagement ring. Since Hawke had returned from the Vimmark Mountains she had been looking sad and distant, he had noticed. All she had told him about the month she had spent away was that they had found and cleaned the Carta hideout and that was it, there was nothing more to it. But he could tell something was troubling her and he was sure his proposal would lift her spirits.

In the evening, back in his quarters in the Gallows, he was getting ready to go meet her when Keran stormed in, his templar armor all bloodied.

"Knight-Captain!" he called, panting.

"What is this, recruit? You can't barge in here like that. This behavior is unacceptable," Cullen scolded him.

"I apologize, Knight-Captain, but you have to come with me. It's Mistress Bethany… Ser Alrik had her put in solitary confinement. I was bringing her dinner when I saw him and Ser Karras leaving her cell. I-I… oh, Maker! I took her to the healers…" Keran said nervously.

_Oh no, not her!_  Cullen thought, his stomach turning. He didn't even bother putting on his armor as he rushed out of his quarters with Keran.

* * *

Bodahn knocked on Hawke's bedroom door. "Messere, a messenger delivered a note for you. It's from the Knight-Captain."

"Slip it under the door, please," she yelled from the bathtub.

She took her time bathing and got out only when the water was already cool. Wrapping herself in a towel, she walked towards the door and grabbed the note.

_Dear Marian,_

_There's an urgent matter that needs my attention here at the Gallows and I won't be able to make it for dinner tonight. I'm sorry and I promise I'll make it up to you._

_Love,_

_Cullen_

She didn't mind that he was canceling on her. Lately she had been obsessing about their relationship and spending too much time with him wasn't helping her sort things out. How did she really feel about him? Was there any way out of that affair that wouldn't endanger her sister? And Fenris… why did that blasted elf keep invading her thoughts?

The next time she went out with Cullen he seemed nervous and cut their night short, saying he wasn't feeling well and would rather sleep at the Gallows than at her estate. At first, she let him be. It was not like she was that much enthusiastic about being with him anyway. But when it happened for the fourth time in a row, she couldn't just play dumb anymore. She had to ask what was going on.

"It's some templar business that is giving me a headache. Nothing important. Don't worry," he answered, faking a smile.

"Templar businesses are usually mages."  _Or lyrium_ , she thought.

"Uh… it's nothing," he replied.

"It's got to be something or you wouldn't be so bothered, having headaches and all," she insisted.

"I cannot tell you," he uttered, looking away.

"Why not?" That was odd and a bad feeling took over her. "Is this about Bethany? Did something happen to her?" she asked, worried.

"No! Of course not!" he hastily replied. Honesty had never been a strong suit in their relationship.

"It's obvious there's something going on, Cullen. You have to tell me what it is," she pressured.

Maker, what was he going to do? He was going to tell her about what had happened to Bethany, but not now. She would certainly want to see her sister and if she saw… The way Hawke was, she would probably do something crazy. He couldn't tell her anything, not while the mage still hadn't recovered.

"Baby, let it go. I need to get some sleep. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" he said and quickly kissed her goodbye and turned on his heels, not giving her a chance to object.

She was determined to find out what was going on, but for now she let him go. Maybe she would show up by surprise in the Gallows during his working hours and snoop around…

* * *

The following day, Hawke went to the Hanged Man to meet her friends for lunch.

"Let me see the ring!" Isabela exclaimed, taking her right hand. "Hmm… It's… okay. I admit I wasn't sure you were going to say yes."

"I've always worn this ring! What are you talking about?" Hawke asked.

"Really? So he didn't propose? Coward!" the pirate snorted.

"Who?"

"Knight-Captain  _Hottie_ , of course," Isabela replied.

"The word around town is that he went shopping for an engagement ring," Varric added. "Apparently he visited every store in Hightown trying to find the right one."

"Oh? So that's why he's been acting all nervous and fidgety…" Hawke said.

"Aren't you happy?" Merrill asked in her usual cheerful way.

"Uh… s-sure," Hawke lied. She knew he was thinking about proposing and if he had asked her before her trip to the Vimmark Mountains she most probably would've said yes, but now… She didn't even know how she was going to react if he proposed, so she decided to go straight to the Gallows to meet him and have an honest talk with him for a change, before it was too late. What if he was planning to pop the question during their date that night? She couldn't let that happen.

The minute she was out of the boat, Keran spotted her and rushed towards her. "Serah Hawke, what took you so long? I thought you'd be here days ago. She needs to see you," he said, almost out of breath. "I'm sure the Knight-Captain will allow it, given the situation."

"What are you talking about, Keran?"

"Recruit!" the Knight-Captain yelled, trying to keep the young templar from breaking the news to her as he hurried to join them.

"Cullen, what's he talking about?" she asked, concerned.

"I've been meaning to tell you, Marian, but I didn't want you to worry. I was waiting until she got better," Cullen said.

"Until who got better? Is this about Bethany? Did something happen to her?" she asked, her brows furrowed and her voice already slightly higher.

"You didn't tell her, Knight-Captain? Serah, after Mistress Bethany returned to the Circle she was –"

"Enough, Keran!" Cullen interrupted. "Marian, some templars decided to interrogate your sister about the month she spent away with you in the Vimmark Mountains. It… may have gotten out of hand."

He laid a hand on her shoulder, but she twitched out of his grasp. "Out of hand? Why did you hide this from me? I trusted you! I want to see her! Now!"

"You'll see her when she gets better," he said.

"A whole building full of healers and they still didn't manage to get her better? What have you done to my sister?" she yelled, tears burning in the back of her eyes.

"Whatever it was that you found out there, Bethany wasn't willing to tell them. That might have made some templars angry. They tried to force her into talking, but she wouldn't give in," Cullen tried to offer her an explanation.

"Are you blaming her for what they did?" Hawke snarled, her eyes narrowed to slits and her nostrils flared. "Keran, what happened to her?"

"I'm right here, Marian. Ask me," Cullen uttered, his tone not so calm anymore.

"Clearly, I cannot trust you,  _Knight-Captain_ ," she retorted, practically spitting the last two words on his face.

"She was tortured, Serah, and… more. I found her afterwards… she was…" the recruit sighed sadly.

Hawke unsheathed one of her daggers and with her free hand she grabbed Keran's collar. "Who did this?"

"This issue is being addressed and taken care of within the templar order. I cannot tell you who –" Cullen started.

"It was Ser Karras and Ser Alrik," Keran answered promptly.

"Keran!" Cullen chided the recruit.

Hawke had never heard of Alrik, but she knew exactly who Karras was. She cursed the day she had brought Varric to find the Starkhaven apostates hiding in the Runaway's Cave. The dwarf had talked Karras into leaving without a fight, convincing him the mages were dead. She should have listened to Grace and killed all templars there. Oh but she would correct that mistake right now. Fuming, she stormed past Cullen, eyes avidly scanning the Gallows searching for the templar lieutenant.

The Knight-Captain went after her and grabbed her shoulder to stop her. She turned around, with her clenched fist already flying towards his jaw, but he caught her hand before she could hit him. With a strong, firm grasp around her wrist he easily turned her arm into a twist behind her back, immobilizing her and making her wince in pain.

"I didn't want to hurt you, Marian, but there are many templars here and they are all watching. If you hit me you'll be arrested," he warned her, trying to keep his voice down and his expression calm so the others wouldn't think there was need to approach them.

"Physical pain is nothing compared to what I'm feeling, Cullen," she said, sounding defeated. Her frustration and disappointment seemed to have won over her anger and he had to hold her so she wouldn't fall on her knees. "Failure. That's what hurts me. I don't think I can take it anymore. My family is always paying the price for my mistakes. I shouldn't have taken Bethany after the Carta, I should have broken her out of here, I… I shouldn't have trusted you," she continued, trying to blink away the tears in her eyes.

It seemed safe to let her go now. Slowly, he freed her arm so he could hug her properly, comfort her and say how sorry he was, but suddenly there was a burst of smoke and she vanished.

Cullen called Keran to help him as he started running across the Gallows courtyard, frantically looking around, searching for her. He saw a shadow in the entrance to the templar hall and wished his eyes were playing tricks on him. If that were her… Was she that mad? She was. Of course it was her!

He signaled Keran to look in the hallway on the left as he searched the one on the right.

"Karras!" Cullen heard her call, but couldn't see her anywhere. The hallway seemed empty.

A door opened and Karras stepped outside. "What is going on?" he asked, looking around.

Hawke appeared right in front of him and drove one of her daggers to the hilt in his stomach, through a chink on the side of his armor. Thanks to her relationship with the Knight-Captain, she knew exactly where the vulnerable spots on a templar armor were. Fisting his hair with her free hand, she forced him to look at her as he gasped and sputtered unintelligibly.

"You'll never touch my sister or any other mage again," she uttered, looking deep into his eyes as she twisted her blade inside him. She watched him intently until he drew his last breath and then yanked her dagger out of him and let his body fall flat on the floor.

Cullen watched the scene in shock, unable to react to the shattering of his dreams. The woman he loved, the one he had chosen to be his wife… they could never be together now. Maker help him, he would have to arrest her.

Keran came running into the hallway. "Where is his sword? Put it in his hand! Make it look like self-defense, Hawke," he said nervously, practically bouncing up and down on his feet. "We'll say he attacked you, right, Knight-Captain? Knight-Captain? Ser?"

Cullen didn't answer. He couldn't think straight. There was noise of people coming down the stairs and doors being opened in the hallway. In about two seconds there would be many other templars there. Still, he couldn't decide what to do.

Hawke turned to Keran. "Who's this Alrik? Where is he?" Her bloodshot eyes, menacing tone and hateful expression causing him to take a step back.

"What happened here?" a templar cried in horror as she walked in the hallway.

"Get her!" another templar who had just come in yelled, pointing at Hawke.

She readied her blades and Cullen saw the determination in her face. She was going to kill as many templars as she could until they killed her and he was probably the only one who could prevent that tragedy. If there was a templar there that could try to contain her without being attacked, it was him. She wouldn't try to kill him, would she? He couldn't be sure anymore. The woman was mad, but he had to try.

Finally, he snapped out of his trance and ordered everyone to stay back as he approached her. "Marian, this is not the way to solve this," he said in a reassuring tone.

She turned to face him and did not attack him, but didn't lower her blades either. As he took a careful step towards her, she saw him giving a quick nod to someone else behind her. When she turned around, she was hit by a shield bash, and pummeled in the forehead for good measure. She was out for just a few seconds but it was enough for the templars to have her disarmed and in manacles.

"I'm sorry, Marian, but there was no other way for you to leave here alive," Cullen said, pulling her up on her feet. "I'll escort you to the boats and the city guard will come for you," he continued, waving a dismissal signal to the other templars and dragging her out to the courtyard.

She was still dizzy and he was really strong. She couldn't fight him. That battle was lost.

"You'll have to be jailed for what you've done. And… we can't be together anymore," he uttered, his voice a little shaken despite his efforts to sound emotionless. "I know you won't believe me, but I will continue to watch over your sister in the Circle."

She wanted to curse him and his empty promises and laugh at him for thinking he needed to break up with her, but there was no point in doing any of that. It wouldn't change anything. She would continue being the failure she was and Bethany would still be hurt… tortured and raped… her little sister… Hot, fat tears rolled down her cheeks. Killing Ser Karras didn't diminish her rage nor subside her guilt. It was her fault all this shit had happened to Bethany and there was nothing she could do about it. There was no way to make this situation any better.

* * *

Hawke was sitting on the thin mattress of rough fabric filled with straws that was supposed to be her bed. Her tiny cell was dark and damp. The wall and the floor were made of unpolished stone and the ceiling was so low her head touched it when she stood up. The small window was secured by two thick iron bars that blocked it almost completely. On the corner there was a wooden bucket to be used as chamber pot.

Aveline came over and passed her a worn blanket through the rusty iron bars of her cell door.

"The guards are getting the statement of the last witness, Hawke. You know there's only so much I can do about this," the Guard Captain said.

When the prisoner did not react, she continued, "I'll go see Leandra. I think it's best if I give her this news in person. And I already sent word to Varric. He will tell the others."

Hawke remained silent, with her head hung.

"Keran told us in his statement what Ser Karras did to Bethany and that you killed him in self-defense. But the six other witnesses said Karras didn't even have his sword on him," Aveline added. "I'm willing to believe Keran, but you would have a stronger case if the Knight-Captain went along with his version. He said he wants to talk to you before giving his statement. He'll come by tomorrow and I suggest you convince him to help you."

Hawke took a deep breath, but other than that, remained unresponsive.

Aveline sighed. "You know Keran is in love with your sister? I had a chat with him after he gave his statement. I wanted to know why he was helping you and if his intentions were good. He said you and Bethany saved his life. And then he went on for a long time about her qualities. They are… close."

The rogue lifted her eyes to her friend and Aveline saw them filled with tears and anger.

"I told him he better take good care of her from now on or I'll gut him myself," the guardswoman said, her tone dead serious. "I have to go now, but I'll come by every day. Unfortunately, the only person from outside allowed to visit is your defender. You have to choose one."

Other than looking down again, Hawke didn't move a muscle and didn't say anything.

"I'm sorry for… all this, Hawke. We will find you a way out. Good night," Aveline spoke and left.

* * *

When Aveline came back early in the morning Hawke was in the same position the Guard Captain had left her the night before. Her breakfast – a chunk of bread, a slice of cheese and a glass of water – was lying untouched on the ground.

Now that the cell wasn't so dark anymore, Aveline noticed Hawke's hands were darkened, covered in dried blood from Ser Karras and ordered the guard on watch to get her a basin and fill it with water. She handed her friend a clean prison uniform and gave her some privacy until she washed herself and changed, which thankfully she did.

"Cullen will be here soon. Be nice," the guardswoman warned her. "And eat something."

"H-how is Mother?" Hawke mumbled, her voice hoarse.

"She… wouldn't stop crying. Bodahn is taking care of her," Aveline answered.

" _Of course I can come in. I am her defender!_ " the women heard Varric shouting at the guard on watch. Seconds later the dwarf joined them.

"Morning, Captain! Hawke! Don't worry. I've taken care of everything. Blondie is going to check on your mother and make sure she's okay. Solivitus will pass us news on Bethany. Rivaini and Daisy are outside, taking notes on the prison's structure and guards' schedule. We should be able to break you out of here in two weeks tops," the storyteller explained, grinning warmly at her.

"Varric! Are you insane? You can't do that. I'd have to stop you and… don't put me in that position!" Aveline protested.

"Come on, Red! Look at this place! We can't leave Hawke here," the dwarf replied.

The guardswoman gave him a stern look. "We'll find a way within the law to get her out."

"She murdered a templar inside the sodding Gallows, in front of his fellow skirts! Do you really believe any magistrate will find her not guilty?" Varric insisted.

"It's possible," Cullen said, joining them. "Only Keran and I were there when… well, let's say when she fought Ser Karras."

Hawke watched silently as they talked about her as if she weren't right there in front of them. It was probably for the best. She was still trying to wrap her mind around all the events of these past days and was not in the mood to chat, or be nice or even polite to anyone. Her sister had been brutalized by templars. Her mother had lost what was left of her family. _Our lives fell apart and it is all my fault_ , Hawke thought.  _I should have died that day instead of Carver. It would have spared my family a lot of suffering._

"Marian!"

She looked up and realized Aveline and Varric were gone and she had been left alone with Cullen.

"Have you listened to anything I said? Are you okay?" the templar asked. His tone was angry at first but then turned into a more concerned one.

"Wonderful. Why didn't you tell me what happened to Bethany?" she asked bitterly.

"I didn't know how you were going to react. I was afraid you were going to do something like… this." He knelt on the ground and sat back on his heels so he wouldn't have to look down on her as they talked. "I… still… love you. I want you to know I won't testify against you, but I need you to give up on your revenge. If you get out of here, you can't go after Ser Alrik. Do you understand that?"

"My family is better off without me, Cullen. I have no reason to live other than putting a knife through that man's heart," she replied. "If I get out of here I will kill him. If they sentence me to death or life in prison, I'll have someone kill him. But you didn't have to ask me that. You know I'd never give up taking revenge on the man who tortured and raped my sister. I'm not going to lie to you so you'll feel better about lying in your statement. I'm tired of lies. Our entire relationship was just lies…"

He opened his mouth to protest but she interrupted him. "Leave. Say whatever you want in your statement. We have nothing else to discuss."

He got up abruptly and punched a wall on his way out, hoping the pain would ease his anger and frustration. It didn't.

* * *

" _No, she fired the dwarf, you daft man. I'm her new defender. And this is my assistant. You better remember us. We'll be coming here often,_ " Hawke heard Isabela telling the guard on watch. The lie worked and Merrill and the pirate got in to see their friend.

"Here." Merrill gave Hawke a book. "I found it in a bag in the Alienage and thought you might like it, you know, to help pass time while you're in here."

"The Book of Shartan," Hawke read the words on the cover. "Thank you, Merrill."

"Oh, Kitten, I'm so proud of you," Isabela told the Dalish elf.

"You are?" Merrill smiled widely. "But why?"

"For taking stuff that doesn't belong to you, of course. It's good to know I'm setting an example," the Rivaini woman replied.

"Oh? Okay, then!" the mage giggled.

"I have something for you too, Hawke," Isabela said and got some tobacco out of her pouch. She blew a brown paper free of a pack and rolled a cigarette.

"I know it's hard to find. Thank you," the prisoner said and got the cigarette that Merrill had lit magically.

"You better be. Seheron is the only place that grows this shit and with the Qunari and the Imperium fighting over the island, there's practically no trade with other countries. I'll leave you enough for ten cigarettes. That's all I have," Isabela said and playfully added, "You owe me."

The women talked for a long time about nothing important, and Hawke finally had a chance to relax and forget about her troubles for a while.

* * *

" _Of course I am! I can't be a healer and her defender? Maybe next time you come to the clinic with some weird rash you picked up from the whores on the docks I should charge you for your treatment,_ " Hawke heard Anders arguing with the guard on watch. It worked and the mage got in.

His grin faded when she got closer to the iron bars and the light of the hallway fell upon her. "Maker's breath! I need to examine you."

She was pale, thin, with dark circles around her eyes and the old, worn prison clothes she was wearing were definitely not helping. "I look dreadful, don't I?" she said, noticing his worried expression. "It's been only a week and I'm a mess already…" she gave him a sad smile.

"I should have come sooner, but Varric made this stupid schedule for us to see you… said we had to follow it or the guards would get suspicious… I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Anders. How is Mother?"

"She's… crying all the time. But she's in good health. She asked me to bring you these cookies she baked. You look like you could use them," he replied with a kind smile, slipping the small bundle of treats between the bars.

She opened it. The smell of vanilla and raisins was irresistible and she wolfed down the cookies in seconds.

"I'll tell the others to bring you food when they come. You need to gain weight and I'm guessing you're not eating whatever they serve you in here." He cautiously looked both ways before enveloping her in healing magic.

"Don't waste your mana on me. I'm fine," she asserted.

"Clearly you are not. I'll bring you a mirror next time I come and you'll see," he insisted.

"Way to kick a woman when she's down," she said. It sounded like she was joking but her eyes were so sad and weary, he regretted having said that.

"I didn't mean it like that. You are… beautiful, Hawke. But you look sick. I'm worried about you."

"Worry about Bethany. Did Solivitus say anything?"

He nodded. "She's back in the mages' quarters, completely healed. Physically, I mean. I talked to my contacts in the Mage Underground. They will investigate this Ser Alrik, find out who he is. I know you want to kill him yourself, but if you're still in here when they find out, I'm going after him. Varric and Isabela will help me. He's the worst kind of templar there is. He cannot be allowed to live," he said, his anger growing with each word.

Hawke reached between the bars and held his hand. "I agree, Anders. But you have to calm down. This is not the best time and place for Justice to make an appearance."

"This has to change. The injustice mages suf–"

"What about it, Anders?" Aveline interrupted, rushing to join them. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"I'm her defender," he answered.

"Really? Varric told you to say that, didn't he? Even Corff visited yesterday saying he was her defender. And the day before it was Isabela and –"

"Fine, I'm leaving!" Anders grumbled and walked out.

"Don't be like that, Aveline. The only other prisoners in this aisle are three cells away. I know you put me alone here so I could have some… privileges without anyone noticing," Hawke winked.

A smile passed quickly by the Guard Captain's lips. "You shouldn't be here, Hawke. The men who did that your sister deserve to die. I doubt she was their first victim. I'll do what I can to get you out."


	27. Misery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke's still in jail. Her friends are visiting.

" _Why do you doubt me? Because I'm an elf I can't be her defender? Are you saying elves can only be servants? Do I look like a servant to you?_ " Hawke heard Fenris' husky voice arguing in a menacing tone with the guard on watch. Seconds later the elven warrior was before her.

He spared a glance in Hawke's direction and looked away as bad memories flooded his mind. That horrible cell was too much like the ones the magisters put their slaves in when they were to be punished. Maker, she shouldn't be in a place like that. He stared at his feet hoping his stomach would stop turning and he would be able to look around again without cringing.

She noticed his discomfort and hesitation and reached a hand between the bars to cradle his face. "It's good to see you. I was afraid you weren't going to come…" she said, hoping to comfort him so he wouldn't leave.

If her caress weren't so gentle and soft, he would have flinched. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch, forgetting for a few moments that awful place. Suddenly realization hit him. His eyes snapped open and he moved away from her. What was he doing? He was the one supposed to be offering her comfort, not the other way around. She was jailed in that deplorable cell, not him.

"What's wrong?" she breathed out tiredly.

"I'm sorry," he uttered. "This place is… I didn't think it would be…"

"Let me guess. This reminds you of Tevinter and you don't want to be here."

He didn't know what to say. She had seen right through him.

His silence was confirmation enough. "You can go. If I ever get out I'll stop by your place, we'll drink wine and pretend this never happened while I listen to you rant about how horrible mages are. You do know why I'm here, right? But I bet that didn't change your opinion on templars…" she rambled, upset. Why did she want him to be there anyway?

There was an instant of uncomfortable silence and then she started again. "Shit. Fenris, I'm sorry. I'm just so… angry. It's not your fault. I have not been sleeping well and I can't even stand straight in here," she let out a frustrated growl. "I never got to see Bethany. Am I supposed to believe what the others tell me? This uncertainty is maddening."

"I… understand. Your sister is a good person, a good… mage. That should not have happened to her." His gaze remained steady on his feet.

It must not have been easy for him to say that and she would've appreciated it more if she weren't in such a foul mood.

"The dwarf said we are not to talk to you about… that. He thinks you spend too much time alone in here beating yourself up because of what happened to your sister and we are supposed to distract you."

 _I wish it was that simple_ , she thought. "Do you not agree with him?"

"I am here for you, Hawke. We can talk about whatever you want. And if you want quiet, I can just keep you company."

"I want you to look at me. Or is it too hard?" she asked, wanting to provoke him, but her voice came out low and sad, making it sound more like a plea. It broke his heart.

He forced himself to look at her, so pale, thin and weary, with matted hair and slumped shoulders. Nothing like that fierce, unpredictable, stubborn Hawke that had knocked him over at the Deep Roads so she would be the one to slay the dragon attacking them. This woman was broken and the templars were to blame. When they had hurt Bethany they had also destroyed Hawke. He imagined how the mage was dealing with that situation – living locked up in the place where she had been tortured and raped with one of the men that had done that to her. For the first time in his life Fenris thought that maybe some mages deserved better than being imprisoned for life. The Circles gave the templars too much power over them and people having that much power over others was never a good thing.

She reached between the bars to squeeze his hand and, Maker, he felt so bad for her. He had to endure that horrible prison; he had to be there for her.

They sat down on the floor with their backs leaning against the stone wall, side by side, as close as they could with those iron bars between them and stayed there enjoying each other's company as much as it was possible in a place like that. He held her hand in his most of the time, letting go only to stroke her cheek or brush some stubborn strand of hair out of her face while they talked, until the guard on watch came over to throw him out.

"Please… just five more minutes?" Hawke asked.

The guard scowled but conceded and returned to his post.

"I have something for you." She passed the Book of Shartan through the bars and handed it to Fenris.

"It… It's a book," he said.

"Merrill gave it to me, to pass time while I'm in here. Turns out I have a lot of free time," she smiled. "I thought about you many times while I was reading it and I want you to have it. I think you're going to like it."

He held the thick tome awkwardly in his hands, as if it was covered in something gross and he didn't want to touch it.

 _What doesn't offend this elf?_  Hawke thought, rolling her eyes. She took a deep, calming breath and tried again. "It's by Shartan, the elf who helped Andraste free the slaves. You know about him, right?"

He got up abruptly. "Of course I know about him. What do you take me for?" he replied, his tone bitter and spiteful.

"Then I take it you're not a fan. Is there anything you like, Fenris? Anyone you admire? Or hate is all you know?" She was tired of his tantrums and wanted to know if she was fighting a long lost battle. If that was the case, she would give up right now. There was too much in her head already and she didn't want to add worrying about being yelled at for trying to be nice.

"Uh… I…" he staggered. Although her question felt almost like a slap on the face, oddly enough, he also enjoyed it. It proved the Hawke he knew was still in there, hidden beneath those defeated eyes. "They don't teach slaves how to read. I never learned," he finally said.

Oh? Of course. She should have thought of that, but, still… "You haven't been a slave for years." As matter of fact, for almost six years now. More than enough time to learn.

"And? Am I not learning your ways quickly enough to suit you?" he spat.

 _Right. Lost battle. Stop fighting_ , she told herself.

He sighed heavily. "You are not responsible for my deficiencies. I do appreciate your gift."

"Really? I could never tell! I wonder how you'd have reacted if you had hated it then," she said sarcastically. "I don't feel like putting up with mood swings right now, Fenris. See," she waved her arms around her, "isn't this shitty enough as it is? Do you think I need to take more crap from you or anyone else?"

"I –"

"Guard! We are done here. Please help this man find his way out," she shouted.

Fenris left, taking the book with him and feeling utterly furious at himself. It would be a whole week before he could visit her again. None of the others would want to switch with him so he could get back there earlier, they all wanted to see her too. He would have to wait and, hopefully, in the meantime, he would find a way to make it up to her for his behavior.

* * *

" _I am her defender_ ," she heard Sebastian say and this time there was no argument. The guard was convinced right away by the prince's impeccable posture, fine clothes and unwavering voice.

"Hawke." He would ask how she was, but just by looking at her he realized it was a stupid question. "I can take your confession if you're ready to repent," he said instead.

"You've got to be kidding me, Choir Boy! Repent? For murdering one of the men who abused and tortured my sister?"

"Many are those who wander in sin, despairing that they are lost forever," he started reciting a verse of the Chant of Light he thought it was appropriate to her situation.

"Sebastian," she called.

He continued, "But the one who repents, who has faith, unshaken by the darkness of the world, and boasts not, nor gloats over the misfortunes of the weak, but takes delight In the Maker's law and creations, she shall know the peace of the Maker's benediction."

"Sebastian!" she insisted, raising her voice. "Let me stop you right there. If that's why you're here, you can go. And tell Varric to change the visiting schedule. I can't have you and Fenris on consecutive days. I need a break," she huffed,  _from the frustrating men_ , she muttered under her breath.

"I thought repentance might bring you comfort," he said in earnest.

"You really don't know me, then. I'm more a revenge kind of person. Like you," she retorted, a smug look on her face.

"I'm looking for justice, not revenge," he replied.

"Right. Who was the defender again on the Flint Company trial? Remind me not hire that guy…"

"Point taken," he sighed. "I can hear your confession for your other sins, then, if you'd like."

"Have I been sentenced to death and they didn't inform me? Or you're just curious to know my dirty secrets?" she teased.

"No, of course not," he hastily answered, blushing. "It's just that you dated Cullen for over a year and not once you accompanied him to the Chantry. I have never seen you pray or confess."

"That's because I never pray, let alone confess."

"You do not believe in the Maker?"

"Hmm… I didn't use to believe, but I witnessed something in the Vimmark Mountains that got me thinking…"

"A miracle?"

"More like a tragedy," she smirked. "But it made me think there might have been a Maker once out there."

"There is still. He –"

"Just turned his back on us because we don't love him enough? Spare me, Choir Boy."

* * *

Hawke was counting the scratches she had made on the stone wall – her improvised calendar. It was Fenris' day to visit. Despite their argument the previous week, she found herself hoping he would show. There was something about him… she couldn't quite put her finger on it, but it made her feel drawn to him somehow.

"Hawke." The elf's unmistakable voice resonated in her tiny cell. "We are supposed to bring you food," he said, handing her a small sack through the iron bars.

"I hate Anders. I'm not some charity case," she complained, but took the sack anyway. "Ooh! Apples!" she exclaimed and he laughed at her childish excitement.

She took a huge bite in a ripe, juicy apple and was reveling in its fresh flavor when she noticed the blasted Book of Shartan in his hands. "Why did you bring that?" she asked, not bothering to swallow the chunks of fruit in her mouth first.

"I always wanted to learn more of Shartan… and I was wondering… if you would teach me how to read…"

Her eyes widened in surprise and for a second there he was afraid of how she was going to react. But then her face was lit by wide smile. "Sure! Want to start right now?"

"Uh… yes."

She grabbed her writing material and sat on the floor, beckoning him to sit down by her side. Without chairs and a table and with the iron bars of her cell between them it was uncomfortable, but he was as intent to learn as she was on teaching him, so they bore with it.

* * *

Hawke had written her sister at first. Since all mail that was to or from mages was opened and checked by the templars, Hawke had sent her letters through unofficial means. She got only one reply. With words carefully chosen not to hold any other meaning if the letter fell into templars' hands, Bethany said that for their own safety they shouldn't write to each other anymore. It was just that, but it was enough to make Hawke's already broken heart sink, because she realized fear was all life held for her little sister as long as she remained in the Circle.

Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months while Hawke was in jail, waiting for trial. Varric and Isabela didn't break her out because she had promised Aveline she would try to make things right this time, within the law. Being friends with the Guard Captain, her escape from prison would be disastrous to the guardswoman career and reputation. At least that was what she said to convince her companions to let her rot in peace in that awful place. Deep inside she felt like she deserved being there – not for murdering Ser Karras, of course, but for letting Bethany's life be ruined and for failing horribly everyone she had ever loved. In prison she was probably doing less harm to those close to her.

Aveline was always assigning different guards as jailors so they wouldn't get too suspicious when every day a different person showed up there claiming to be Hawke's defender. This way, the whole time she was imprisoned not even one day went by without one of her friends visiting. On some of these days she was completely unresponsive to their presence; on others, she was angry and picking fights with them. Sometimes she would make polite conversation, maybe fake a smile and even crack a joke and force a laugh. However the only times her smile would really meet her eyes were during Fenris' visits, while she was teaching him to read and write. She would get so involved in their lessons that for a couple of hours she would forget everything else.

Six months had gone by since her arrest. Her mother had tried to visit, but at Hawke's request Aveline told Leandra it was impossible. The prisoner didn't want her mother to see her in that deplorable state. It would only make the old woman suffer more.

Hawke's birthday passed without anyone acknowledging it. Anders had been the one to visit her that day, but she hadn't mentioned anything. There had been nothing to celebrate anyway. Worried about the beginning of the cold season, he had brought her an extra blanket, health potions and medicinal herbs. Her unwholesome cell, damp and made of stone and iron would also be freezing soon and he knew even a simple flu could become fatal in that poor condition she was in. His concern and kindness had been good enough gifts for her and, in the end, she thought it had been a birthday better than she had deserved.

By now, she had lost count of how many books she had read, from the History of the Chantry to the most unholy books in Thedas – Isabela had brought her a fine selection of the latter. Also she had been spending more time than she was willing to admit talking to a small potted plant Merrill had given her.

That was exactly what she was doing when Varric arrived for his weekly visit. "So, did you name it yet?" he asked.

"Not 'it', dwarf. Her. Her name is Claudette."

"She's Orlesian?" he shook his head. "That's it. To the Void with Aveline. I'm breaking you out tonight."

"There's no need, Varric. Her trial is next month," the Guard Captain said, coming over to meet them.

"Fine, but if it – I mean, Claudette starts answering you, I won't wait another day. I'll get you out," the storyteller uttered, giving Hawke a warning look.

"Someone must have pulled some strings for you, Hawke. We have prisoners here that have been waiting for a trial for over a year," the guardswoman remarked. She turned to the dwarf raising a questioning brow. "Varric?"

"No, not me," he answered.

"Who, then? I have no friends among Kirkwall's magistrates…" Hawke said and as the words came out of her mouth, realization hit her. "Fuck! Vanard!"

"Shit! If he took your case, you'll only leave this place dead. He'll make sure of that," Varric said.

"You don't need to tell me that. Damn!" That was not a good way to die. She couldn't give that corrupt man the satisfaction of having his revenge.

"I'll look into it. If it's really Vanard who's behind this… I'll see what I can do," Aveline uttered. Looking worried, she left.

Varric waited until she was out of sight and then spoke, "Hawke, just say the word and we'll break you out. Rivaini, Daisy and Blondie are ready to help me storm this place since day one."

"If my choices are being a fugitive or death, I choose being a fugitive. Vanard won't have me. But let's give Aveline some time to get to the bottom of this." She was silent for a moment before adding with a tired, sad sigh, "There has to be a better way out of here…"

Varric looked down so she wouldn't see the sadness and frustration in his eyes. Watching her wasting away in that place was heartbreaking. She was looking worse than usual that day – paler, weaker, and now she had started coughing…

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

 _Everything_ , he thought, but decided it was best not to talk about it right now. She surely was miserable enough already and could do without any more gloominess. "I have interesting news for you," he changed the subject. "Lord Harimann passed away. I attended his cremation."

"Not to pay your respects, I presume."

"All Kirkwall's nobility would be there and I thought it was a good opportunity to find clues on who hired the Flint Company to murder the Vaels."

"And?"

"His wife and kids didn't show up. There was no one to take his ashes in the end."

"Weird."

"I agree. There's something there."

"Did you tell Sebastian?"

He shook his head. "You tell him, Hawke. He gets on my nerves. What do you two talk about when he comes here? I didn't want to include him in the visiting schedule. I was afraid he might bore you to death. But he insisted. I saved a day for him just so he would shut up."

"If you want to know, most of the time he spends trying to turn me into a devout Andrastian."

"By the stone, he can't even try to be fun? Ever?"

"It's fun for me. I tease him, shock him by saying some sacrilegious stuff and then we argue. It beats being ignored by Claudette," she shrugged.

He rolled his eyes. "I'm telling you, Hawke, I'm going to kill this plant."

"That would be a shame! I thought Bianca and her could be friends…"

"Bianca would never wan– Oh! I see what you're doing. Fine! Talk to your weed then!"

"Hey! Don't call her that!"

"What kind of plant is she anyway?"

"I don't know. She's still young. Merrill said there were different seeds in the pot and that she had put a spell on it. It would sprout the one that matched my personality best."

"Hmm… I'm sure no gentle flower is coming out of there, then."

"Varric!"

"What? It's true. It's probably a cactus…"

"Hey! That's harsh! And she doesn't look like a cactus!"

A fly came in through the window and landed in one of the small leaves. Varric and Hawke held their breaths as they intently watched the plant. Nothing happened and after a few moments the fly left unharmed.

"Well, I didn't think she looked like a carnivore either," Hawke observed.

"I guess we'll have to wait longer to find out," the dwarf said.

* * *

A couple of days later Aveline came back with some bad news for Hawke. "Vanard really is the magistrate in your trial. Cullen and Keran promised to testify in your favor, but I don't think that will be enough. I'm afraid nothing will," the Guard Captain uttered in a somber tone.

Hawke was curled into a ball on her lousy mattress and did not answer.

"However, Seneschal Bran came over today, asking questions about you. Apparently the Viscount has some business he wants to deal with you about personally. Depending on how important this business is… maybe it could be a way out of here," the warrior continued, but still she got no reaction from Hawke. She gave the prisoner a closer look and noticed she was shivering. "Hawke? Hawke!"

Her only reaction was mumbling something incoherent.

"Guardsman Walton! Open this cell right now. Come on! Double time!" Aveline called the jailor on duty.

The man rushed over, nervously fumbling with his bunch of keys, trying to find the correct one. Fenris was right behind him.

"No reading lesson for you today, elf. Go get Anders," Aveline ordered.

"What is going on? Is she okay?" he asked, worried.

"No, she's not! Get Anders. Now!" the guardswoman yelled.

The cell was finally open and Aveline hurried inside. She turned Hawke on her back and placed a hand on her forehead. It was damp with sweat and burning up, so she asked the guard for a basin filled with water and a cloth and hoped Anders would arrive soon.

When he got there Aveline ordered the guard to return to his post so the mage could work freely and undisturbed.

Anders hastily knelt by Hawke's side and started examining her. There was a lot of fumbling with her and magic sparkling before he finally talked to the two warriors who had been anxiously looking over his shoulder as he worked.

"It's colder in here than it is outside. She's been without sun and exercise for over six months. The food you serve, she barely eats it and the ceiling is so low, she can't even stand straight," the healer spoke. "It's no surprise she's sick. I knew this was going to happen." He turned back to Hawke and gently caressed her cheekbone. Because of her weight loss, it was more pronounced than usual. It pained him to see her like that.

"This is a prison, not some fancy inn by the beach. There's only so much I can do for her without compromising my –" the Guard Captain started.

"It's clearly not enough. She could've escaped but stayed for you, Aveline. If she dies in here… so help me!" he exclaimed, running his fingers through his hair.

"The Viscount is coming to talk to her tomorrow and it's possible he'll grant her amnesty. He has the power to do it. If there's a chance she might leave here a free woman instead of a fugitive, we have to take it," she tried to explain.

"She might not survive until tomorrow," he snapped.

"Then I have no other choice," she said, a stern look on her face. "Anders, you are under arrest for… unlicensed medical practice*. You are going to stay with her and make sure she'll be fine." Quickly, she pushed Fenris out, closed the cell door and turned the key that was hanging in the lock.

"What?" Blue light immediately began to glow as Anders' skin seemed to crack.

"You better calm down, mage. If this demon of yours takes over and you hurt her I will rip your heart out," Fenris snarled angrily.

It took the healer some time but he returned to his normal self. "I would never!" he replied, breathing heavily.

"When she gets better I'll dismiss the charges and let you out," Aveline added. "Make a list of everything you need to heal her and we'll get it."

The mage took a deep, steadying breath, trying to take in everything that had just happened and concentrate on making the list.

Fenris wanted to stay and make sure Hawke would be fine and the abomination wouldn't take advantage of her, but Aveline dragged him with her to help her get the supplies the mage had asked for. Not that the elf was really needed for that task, but if he stayed he could get in a fight with Anders and without anyone to calm their nerves, things surely wouldn't turn out well.

* * *

When Hawke woke up, every muscle in her body was aching horribly, yet she was feeling much warmer and comfortable than usual. She tried to move but something was holding her tight in place. Someone, to be more exact. He was sitting down on her mattress, cradling her in his arms, holding her against his chest. She placed a hand on his chest and could feel the slow, deep breathing of this someone sound asleep, with his head leaning against the wall. The sane thing to do would be jumping to her feet, demanding an explanation, calling the jailor, but she was actually feeling so safe and protected in those arms. Could it be Fenris? And then she noticed she was wearing different clothes, clean ones, and the sweat and grime was gone from her skin. She wondered for how long she had been out. Maybe she was not in prison anymore… Straining her eyes to see in the darkness, she took in her surroundings. Stone walls, check. Good for nothing window, check. Rusty iron bars, check. Damn it!

Her hand trailed lightly from his chest to his face. Stubble.  _Not Fenris_ , she thought, disappointed. "Elves don't grow beards," she remembered him telling Varric. Could it be Cullen? Oh, no. Finally she found the strength to jump to her feet, causing the man to wake up startled.

"Anders!" She realized who it was and let out a relieved sigh.

It took him a few moments to recognize where he was and he rubbed his eyes. "How are you feeling?"

"Better. Thank you."

"I'm sorry. I should have slept on the floor, but –"

"It's fine. Why are you in here? And in the middle of the night?"

"You were very sick and Aveline sent for me. I was afraid you might not make it through the night. She arrested me so I would take care of you."

"That reluctant, huh?"

"No! That didn't come out right. I would have done it anyway, but I wanted to get you out. Of course she found it better to keep me here instead. Still, I could have gotten out if wanted to. This cell can't hold me. Can't hold you either."

She smiled sadly. "True." Almost every night, after the guard on watch fell asleep she would pick the lock and go out in the corridor for a couple of minutes to stretch her legs. Remembering this, she touched her pockets. Shit! These were not the clothes she had been wearing.

"Don't worry. Your  _tools_  are safe. I hid them before handing your old clothes to Aveline."

"Thank you," she let out a relieved sigh. It felt so good having someone care this much for her… Was it bad that she was wishing he would stay there with her? Well, maybe it was best to wish they would be together somewhere else…  _Damn! Not him_ , she scolded herself inwardly for being so needy.  _He threw you out of his bed. Or did you forget that already?_

* * *

***I know unlicensed medical practice wouldn't be a crime in DA time, but I thought it would be funny, so I used it anyway.**


	28. Getting Closer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for bachelor #5!

Aveline went to check on Hawke and Anders first thing in the morning. She wanted to see them before the Viscount paid his visit. Thankfully, Hawke was feeling better and the guardswoman unlocked the cell to free the mage as she had promised.

He lingered in there, though, hesitating about leaving Hawke alone so soon. "She's not completely healed and if she stays here she'll get worse again," he told the guardswoman.

"If that happens, I'm sure I can find another reason to arrest you," Aveline replied and then turned to Hawke. "The Viscount wanted to check the facts behind your arrest, so I asked Cullen to talk to him. They had a meeting yesterday and Cullen told him Ser Karras was to blame for what happened. There's a very good chance the Viscount might let you out," she explained.

"What does he want with her anyway?" Anders asked.

"I don't know, but I think it might have something to do with the Qunari," the Guard-Captain answered.

Anders looked at the prisoner. "Are you going to be fine?"

She nodded and gave him a kind smile. "Thank you, Anders. I really appreciate what you did. I owe you one."

"No, you don't," he replied, hugging her and gently kissing her forehead before exiting the cell. "I'll wait outside. If the Viscount lets you out, I'll walk you home. If he doesn't…" he looked defiantly at Aveline, "I'll get you out."

The warrior rolled her eyes and ordered the jailor to escort the mage out. "The Viscount will be here shortly, Hawke. Please, be nice," she said as she locked the cell again.

"Don't worry, Aveline. I will. Vanard won't have the pleasure of sentencing me to death," the rogue said, her chin set with determination.

Aveline was relieved. Seeing Hawke look anything other than defeated was a nice and much needed change.

* * *

Dumar arrived with a few guards and seneschal Bran in tow, but dismissed them all so he could talk to Hawke in privacy. He skipped the pleasantries and cut to the chase. Granting forgiveness to a prisoner that was being accused of murdering a templar did not sit well with him and would certainly ruffle some feathers among important people in Kirkwall. The Arishok was forcing his hand on that matter and the Viscount tried to convince himself he was only doing it for the greater good; after all, something had to be done. The continued Qunari presence in the city for almost three years was causing tensions to rise. It was hard to believe they were still just waiting for a second ship to come pick them up. There had to be something else they wanted.

"We cannot afford to antagonize the Qunari and the Arishok won't speak to me. They will not leave and we do not have the resources to force the issue. At least not in a way that would leave the city intact. The Arishok requested you by name, Serah Hawke. I just need him quiet. Your crime will be forgiven and you shall be released if you agree to speak to him. You are to give him what he needs to keep the peace. Can you do that for Kirkwall?" he asked her.

That the Viscount had agreed to be a messenger for the Arishok and was willing to pardon a murder suspect, spoke volumes of how serious and tense the relations with the Qunari were.

"I'll do my best to solve this, Your Excellency," Hawke answered.

"I hope you understand the urgency and gravity of this situation, Serah. You brought Seamus back to me a few years ago, but you'd been rewarded for it. I don't owe you anything and I'm not here to do you any favors. It's Kirkwall you owe for your freedom and you will repay the city by appeasing the Arishok."

She did not object. Though at first she might have thought rotting in prison was a fitting punishment for all her screw-ups, now there were quite a few reasons for her to take her freedom back – not giving magistrate Vanard his undeserved revenge; murdering Ser Alrik; helping Kirkwall. Her time in that awful little cell was done.

The Viscount called back the seneschal and the Guard-Captain to inform them about his arrangement with the prisoner. Aveline immediately left to take care of the paperwork for Hawke's release. She wanted her friend out of there as quickly as possible.

The guardswoman got back just in time to find Anders and Fenris in a heated argument. The mage had been outside the prison the whole time, waiting to accompany Hawke home, and the elf had just arrived to see if her health had improved from the day before.

"For Hawke's sake you two had better play nice with each other. If you drag her into this argument on her first day out of jail, so help me!" Aveline scolded them in a motherly way. "Better yet, why don't you two go tell Varric and Isabela to throw her a party or something. I'll take her home."

They grumbled and grimaced, but Aveline crossed her arms over her chest and shot them her nastiest glare. She was clearly not going to back out, so they finally complied and left.

* * *

Back home at last, Hawke was welcomed enthusiastically by Leandra, Garrus, Bodahn and Sandal. Her mother prepared her favorite dish, while the dwarves drew her a bath. After eating and bathing, she asked them not to let any of her friends in for the rest of the day and then locked herself in her room. Not only did she need to rest, but also she could do without the pity looks Leandra and the older dwarf were giving her. She sunk in her unbelievably comfortable mattress and stayed there until the next morning.

As she left the bedroom to have breakfast, her companions were all waiting for her downstairs. It was early in the morning and it was awfully cold outside. She wondered what she had done to have this much loyalty from such an odd group of people.

Bodahn had suspected they might all be joining Hawke for breakfast so he was already coming back from the market with extra eggs, cheese and bread.

Indeed her whole party sat down to eat with her.

"When are you going to see the Arishok? I want to be there too," the Guard-Captain said.

"If you're thinking about taking me, I can't go. I'm busy," the pirate hastily uttered.

"I didn't even say when I'm going, Isabela. But don't worry, you won't be needed. And you can come along, Aveline. I'll go there this afternoon. I better see to this right away, before the Viscount regrets letting me out," Hawke replied.

"I wish I could see Vanard's face when he hears there won't be a trial, that you just got to walk free," Varric chuckled.

"Are you sure you're up for this? You haven't wielded a blade in months," Isabela pointed out.

"And you're still weak. You need to rest," Anders added.

"I'm not going there to fight. I'm going there to talk," Hawke replied.

"Come on, Hawke. We all know how quickly things can fall apart around you. You'd better not take any chances," Varric said.

"There will be no fighting, I assure you. Nevertheless, I need to get back in shape. Anyone wants to be my sparring partner?" she asked them.

"Me," Fenris and Sebastian offered at the same time.

"No offense, Fenris, but I think I'm a better option. I'm a rogue like her," the prince argued.

"You are. So what is the point? It is best if she practices with me. We all know she could learn how to defend herself from warriors better," Fenris replied.

"Hey!" Hawke protested. "I defend myself from warriors just fine."

"No, you don't," Isabela chimed in. "You would benefit greatly from practicing with this smoldering elf here."

"Tsk, tsk," Varric shook his head. "That's not fair, Rivaini. You're only saying that because your money is on the elf."

"What are you talking about? Is it a bet? Can I participate?" Merrill asked, looking eagerly at the pirate and the storyteller.

"Sure you can, Kitten. We're trying to guess who will get in Hawke's pants next, now that Knight-Captain Hottie is out of the way," Isabela answered. She winked at Hawke who just rolled her eyes impatiently.

"So Daisy, are you putting your money on Blondie or Broody?" Varric asked.

Fenris was blushing, which made the angry glare he shot at the dwarf not at all menacing as he had intended it to be.

Anders arched his brows in an inquiring way and smiled smugly when Varric answered his unspoken question. "My money is on you, Blondie," the dwarf said.

"What about Sebastian?" the elven mage asked.

"Oh, we have a different a bet for him," Varric said, looking at the prince sideways.

Sebastian gave them an annoyed look. "What bet?"

"How long is it going to take for you to forsake your vows, of course," Isabela answered as if she were stating the obvious.

"This is absurd!" the Chantry Brother protested. "Hawke, they are making a mockery out of our lives. You can't possibly be fine with this!"

The Rivaini woman was quick in rattling on her friend. "Actually, she has money on this one too," she said.

Hawke pinched the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath, trying to pretend she was upset and not about to burst in laughter. Teasing Sebastian was too much fun.

"This is no big deal. It's just a cheap bet. We all have money on this," Anders remarked dismissively.

Aveline suddenly found something very interesting at the ceiling for her to stare at.

"I don't," Merrill said.

"Fine. Who has  _never_?" Sebastian asked, clearly pissed.

The silence in the room was almost palpable.

His nostrils flared and he continued angrily, "How much to get in?"

"One sovereign," Varric answered promptly.

The archer reached into his pouch, grabbed one gold coin and threw it over the table. It landed right in front of the dwarf. "Then put my name under  _never_."

"Let's do it like this: if you're still in the Chantry five years from now, the money is yours," the storyteller proposed.

"No one bet more than five years?" the Brother asked indignantly.

"What can I say, Choir Boy? People who shoot arrows at the Grand Cleric are usually not Chantry material," Varric pointed out.

"Won't you let this go? I didn't shoot  _at_  Elthina; I shot at the parchment in her hand," the prince explained, upset.

"Not what you expect from your friendly neighborhood Chantry Brother…" Isabela jested.

"The Chantry is not a place for princes, Sebastian, especially when they are the last of their line," Hawke stated matter-of-factly.

"And obsessed with revenge," Anders added.

"Look who's talking," the prince scoffed.

"Let's not hold that against each other. Revenge is something wonderful. It's what keep us together. We're all about revenge. All of us," Isabela started.

"I'm not," both Aveline and Merrill said in unison.

The pirate continued, "Varric wants to get back at his brother. Hawke wants to get back at Ser Alrik, the Circle, all the ogres in Thedas and so on. Fenris wants to get back at his former master. Anders wants to avenge… what's his name? That ex-lover of his that was made Tranquil."

The healer looked away, embarrassed.

"Anders, we all know about you and Karl and, seriously, no one cares," Hawke reassured him and then turned to Sebastian and gave him a warning look, so he would keep his righteous mouth shut. "And let's not forget Isabela, of course, who wants to get back at Castillon," she added.

"Exactly," the pirate agreed.

"Now, Fenris, how about I come over to your place so we can spar and continue your reading lessons?" Hawke asked the elven warrior, changing the subject.

He felt his mouth going dry and licked his lips. Not trusting his voice to come out without wavering, he just nodded his agreement.

Isabela gave Varric a knowing look and the dwarf shook his head.

"Great! We'll start tomorrow, then," Hawke gave the elf a small smile and turned to the others. "Aveline, Varric, you'll come with me to see the Arishok. Sebastian, there's something going on at the Harimanns'. I think there's a chance they might be involved in the murder of your family. Keep watch at their estate and see if you can confirm our suspicions before we take action. Bring…" her eyes roamed through her companions' faces, "… Isabela with you. She's good at stealth,"  _and she's the best at making you uncomfortable_ , Hawke added in thought. "During the cold season let's switch our meetings at the Hanged Man to lunchtime. What do you think?"

Everyone agreed. Before they left, Varric told them they would have a gathering to celebrate Hawke's freedom at the weekend and then Anders gave her a quick check-up and made her drink an elfroot potion for good measure.

* * *

Her talk to the Arishok went well, but Hawke thought she might not be so lucky venturing in Darktown to search for Javaris. She needed to get back in shape first, so she left it to Varric and Aveline to track him down.

During lunch the next day, they told her they had found a lead on Javaris and that they were on to him. Sebastian and Isabela, however, didn't make any progress investigating the Harimann estate.

"What happened?" Hawke asked the two rogues.

"Choir Boy just left me there and went back to the Chantry. Said he needed to pray, or flog himself, I don't know," Isabela answered, shrugging.

"She only talks about vulgar things, Hawke. All. The. Time," the archer complained.

"It's because I like seeing you blush. You're cute when you're blushing," the pirate teased.

"She's impossible," he grumbled.

"Come now, Isabela. Don't be like that. He's cute even when he's not blushing," Hawke said and gave the Chantry Brother a wink.

To her utter amusement that made Sebastian blush furiously to the tip of his ears. Anders huffed and Fenris rolled his eyes while Varric and Isabela chuckled at the scene.

* * *

Hawke went over to Fenris' in the afternoon. The hearth was lit for a change and there were no dead bodies on the floor which made his place look less like a wolf's den and have some resemblance to a home. The furniture had been pushed close to the walls, giving them more room to spar.

She suggested they begin with the reading and writing lesson, though. They sat side by side on the table, but he kept a polite distance from her all the time. She wondered if something had happened. When they were having lessons in prison he was always holding her hand, touching her face, caressing her hair… had it been just out of pity, because she had been jailed? Hell, she hoped not or she would… kill him, probably.

After the lesson, they grabbed their wooden weapons to spar. They went to the middle of the room and facing each other, they assumed their fighting stances. He lunged at her first but she rolled away. She got back on her feet behind his back, but before she could perform a backstab, he swung and brought her to the ground with a low kick.

She wasn't quick enough to escape his next blow and found herself trapped under his flaring form with a gauntleted hand around her neck.

"Too slow. You would be dead by now," he hissed.

His grasp on her throat was a bit too tight for comfort and she squirmed underneath him. He felt his blood rushing south and hastily let go of her. He would not make a fool of himself in front of her.

She took a deep breath and got up. "Not fair. I was expecting a sword attack, not this… lyrium hand crap."

He attacked her again, but this time she swiftly slid under his blade and connected a blow to his ribs. Before he could react, she disappeared. He assumed a defensive stance as he focused in hearing her steps to find out where she was.

"I see you cleaned up the place," she teased.

He attacked in the direction her voice came from, but hit nothing.

"Are you expecting anyone?" she continued.

_You._  "No," he replied as he lunged, but missed again.

"Danarius, perhaps?" she continued, deliberately trying to annoy him.

He didn't attack this time. First, he wanted to find out exactly where she was. He wouldn't miss another blow. "Do not mock me, woman," he warned her. "This mansion is not his. It belongs to a Tevinter merchant who has evidently given up on the place. He must be dead. Danarius has probably killed him," he said, closing his eyes so he could better concentrate on using his other senses to find her.

He felt the air shifting around him and knew she was right behind him. He turned just in time to defend himself from her strike. Now out of stealth, she rolled away from him.

They began circling each other, ready to go another round.

"Does he know you're here?" she asked, twirling her practice daggers in her hands.

"If he does, he has done nothing about it," he replied, adjusting his grip on his wooden sword.

This time she attacked first. He dodged, swinging behind her to strike back at her, but she briskly lowered herself, evading his blow as she sent him to the ground with a kick to the side of his knee.

He recovered quickly and they began circling each other again.

"Tell me: what do you do when you stop running?" he asked.

"You start over," she replied, panting heavily.

"Stamina draught?" he offered, smirking.

"I'm fine," she dismissed it.

To prove her wrong he used his scythe attack. She failed to evade it and his sword clashed with her daggers. She wasn't strong enough to hold her ground against him and he pushed her, backing her until he had her pinned against the wall. He increased the pressure of his sword against her daggers until she was forced to drop them and then he had his weapon against her throat.

"Dead again," he uttered. His body was pressed flush against hers and she spread her legs just enough for one of his to slide between hers.

Maker help him, he could feel her heated center right there in his thigh and without even thinking he crushed her even more between him and the wall.

She looked deep into his eyes and parted her lips, curling her hands around his waist.

He threw his sword away, grabbed her wrists and pinned them on the sides of her head with his hands. His body was still pressed against hers, but he had an angry look on his face. "Why do you do this, Hawke? Is it not the prince you want?" he snarled.

"No," she answered flatly.

"You sure seemed to be going out of your way to make him blush today," he spat.

"Yet here I am, sparring with you," she retorted.

He swallowed and let go of her wrists, keeping his hands where they had been. "I'm an escaped slave and an elf, living in a borrowed mansion. None of these things bother you?" he asked in a slightly lighter tone.

"I'm a refugee who just got out of jail. Doesn't that bother you?" she countered.

"You have me there," he admitted.

"Don't I?" she uttered mischievously and licked her lips.

_Festis bei umo canavarum_. It was his last coherent thought as his mouth descended upon hers with bruising force.

His fingers tangled in her hair and their tongues met as they started exploring each other's mouth. She pulled back and nipped at his lower lip, eliciting a pleasured moan from him. His free hand was still on the side of her head, so she gently guided it down, running it on the side of her body until it was resting on her hip.

He curled his hand around her and instinctively ground his erection against her. Her tongue delved into his mouth again and she started fumbling with the binds of his armor. His chest piece quickly fell off and she moved on to unbuckle his belt.

Startled at how fast things were going and not knowing how to deal with that situation, he broke the kiss and held her eager hands in his. "I… have never allowed anyone this close," he spoke.

She raised her brows and gave him an expectant look.

"When my markings were created the pain was… extraordinary. And the memory lingers," he continued.

"Oh, no," she mumbled. Worried that she might have ruined things once and for all with him, she started to pull away.

He allowed her.

Looking down, she turned away from him, straightened her clothes and ran her hands through her hair, smoothing it. He couldn't help thinking it had looked better all disheveled from his grasp.

"But you are unlike any other woman I have ever met, Hawke. With you it might be different," he said. He wasn't ready to take that next step with her. It was too much, too intimate, but he didn't want her to go either.

She turned back to him, a confused look on her face. "What are you saying, Fenris?"

"My first memory is receiving these markings, the lyrium being branded into my flesh. The agony wiped away everything. Whatever life I had before I became a slave… it's lost," he uttered.

"Are you saying what I think you're saying? You've never…?"

"If there was someone before, I have no memory of it. And after I escaped I stayed nowhere for long. Who would I trust? I didn't think I needed anyone. Or wanted anyone. Until now," he said. His voice was even lower and huskier than usual, sending shivers down her spine.

Her eyes widened. She liked him, of course, and there was something about him that made her feel drawn to him from the start, though she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Plus, he was really attractive and she thought it would be great to fool around with him. If it led somewhere, even better, but it was obvious this… affair or whatever they were starting here meant a great deal to him already and, at that point, sex would mean a lot more to him than to her. Right then and there she knew she couldn't just jump in bed with him like she wanted to.

"I get it, Fenris. You want to do this, just not today. It is fine," she smiled.

"… yes. Uh… on another evening, perhaps?" he asked, hesitantly.

"Sure," she said kindly.

He seemed uncertain about what to do next, so she approached him to say goodbye with a quick peck on the cheek. Her lips were reddened and swollen from their kiss and he couldn't resist turning his head to capture her mouth with his. She deepened the kiss at first, but quickly broke it when she noticed things were about to get out of hand again. For this to work she would have to respect his limits, even when he seemed ready and eager to tip over them.


	29. Things We Said Today

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Fenris! And a bottle of wine ;)

Leandra entered Hawke's room and closed the door behind her.

"Marian, I need to talk to you."

"Of course, Mother." Hawke knew this was coming. She was surprised Leandra had actually welcomed her home instead of crying and blaming her for what had happened to Bethany.

"Since you were arrested we haven't gotten a single invitation for the other nobles' parties. Even the Arenbergs, who live right next to us, had a banquet last month and didn't invite me. I don't know what to do. How am I supposed to find you a husband now that you've been in jail?" the older woman said in exasperation.

Hawke swallowed hard and buried her face in her palms. If that was what her mother was worrying about, she probably didn't know about… "What did Aveline tell you I was in jail for?"

"For killing a templar. She said it was self-defense and that you did the right thing. But when I asked why a templar would attack you, she only said there was some trouble in the Gallows and things had gotten out of hand. That Knight-Captain… I never trusted him. Did he turn on you and decided to arrest you for harboring an apostate? Is that what really happened?"

"No, but you were right. I should never have trusted him," Hawke admitted. "Did Aveline say anything about Bethany?"

"She said she was fine. Why? Did she have anything to do with this?"

Hawke felt nauseated. She would have to tell Leandra what had happened. She could not imagine a harder conversation than that. She beckoned her mother to sit by her side on the bed and then she told her everything.

"No, Maker, please, no! My little girl!" the older woman kept repeating between desperate and pained sobs.

"I'm so sorry, Mother," Hawke whispered quietly. She tried to hold Leandra, to calm her, but the woman got up abruptly and stood in front of her crestfallen daughter.

"How could you take her back to that place? This is your fault! Was that templar worth this?" her mother yelled.

When they had gotten back from the Vimmark Mountains, Bethany had spent the whole night holding her mother and explaining to her that she had decided to go back to the Gallows so they wouldn't have to be on the run again. Hawke had told Leandra the same thing many times over. But there was no point dwelling on that now. It would change nothing and it wouldn't make her mother feel any better.

Hawke had never seen Leandra so angry and hurt, not even when Carver had died. Was there anything in the world she could say to sooth that pain? "Mother, I –"

A slap across the face interrupted her. She wasn't expecting it. Her mother had never hit her before. Hawke inhaled sharply, but did not move. She didn't even raise her hand to touch her cheek. Her mother had slapped her and she just took it silently and with her eyes cast downwards. Physically, it didn't hurt. Not even a bit. Not physically, anyway.

Sobbing, Leandra stormed out of her daughter's room.

Hawke waited until she heard the door to her mother's bedroom closing and then went downstairs to grab a bottle of whiskey. She just couldn't torture herself over what had happened to Bethany anymore. She didn't have the energy to do it. She didn't even have any tears left to shed. Right at that moment she would take just anything that would give her a break on the guilt and sorrow. Drinking herself into a stupor seemed like the easiest option.

Sitting alone in her bedroom, she caught herself wishing she had someone to share her bed with. Someone to hold her and console her and help her get over all this mess… Was she asking for too much? How come she had always been alone at the worst moments of her life? When Malcolm, Arthur and Carver had died, when Bethany was taken to the Circle and then tortured Hawke always had to be the who took care of everything and everyone. She had always been the one to carry whatever burden there was to be carried. She was always the one who to be strong for the others. Every time Leandra needed someone to blame, Hawke was there to quietly take it. She was always there for everyone but no one was ever there for her. There were times when she couldn't hold anyone anymore; she needed to be held instead. This was one of those times and again she was alone.

* * *

Hawke and Fenris arrived together at the celebration Varric was having for her at the Hanged Man that weekend, but sat down further from each other as possible so the others wouldn't suspect anything was going on between them. To have her friends meddling in their affair before it had even really started was a good way to make it never actually happen.

She was grateful to whoever had had the idea for this party. The distraction was very much needed and any excuse for her to get out of her house was welcome. Maybe something good would happen this night. Who knew? She could only hope…

Anders hastily took the place by her side. "Things just keep getting worse. I had templars practically on my doorstep the other night," he grumbled.

She had no right to any distractions, so it seemed. "Are they hunting you?" she asked, worried. Her thoughts were already spiraling out of control. After what had happened to Bethany the very mention of the word "templar" would get her on her toes. Cullen had promised her he wouldn't tell anyone about the healer, but he had also promised he would keep her sister safe but he didn't. So many lies and empty promises… He was definitely not to be trusted. To think she had spent almost two years with him! How could she have been so stupid?

Anders noticed the sudden distressed look on her face and hastily explained, "Not me specifically. They were just checking the refugee camps. But it's not like my clinic is a secret. It's only a matter of time… Knight-Commander Meredith and her curfews and midnight raids on mages' families are forcing everyone I know into hiding so they won't be made Tranquil."

"They already have my sister. I won't let them have you. They would have to go through me," she said decisively.

"What happened to Bethany… and then you in that prison… Justice doesn't know how to sit idle until the right moment to strike. And I can't say I have any greater patience. I wish I were there with you when you stormed the Gallows to kill Ser Karras. You did right, Hawke. I would have done the same. Or worse… You know, I wouldn't hesitate drowning us in blood to keep you safe."

"Awww, that is soooo romantic!" Isabela exclaimed mockingly.

Anders huffed, annoyed at the pirate's tone and interruption.

"I don't know, Rivaini. If this were any other woman, I'd tell him to try flowers and dinner first, but Hawke… she probably thinks this drowning in blood shit is the most romantic thing she has ever heard," the dwarf said with a chuckle. "Come on, Hawke. Tell me I'm wrong," he teased.

All her companions stared at her, curiously waiting for her answer. She looked down, embarrassed. Hell, how fucked up she must be to really find that romantic? "Well…" she started, a sheepish smile on her face.

Aveline rolled her eyes and shook her head. Sebastian looked at her in disbelief. But suddenly all eyes turned to Fenris, who was emptying his tankard of ale in one gulp. He slammed it on the table and stormed out of Varric's suite.

Hawke decided she didn't care what her friends would think. She hastily got up on her feet, grabbed her coat and went after him.

Once out of the tavern, there was no sign of him. How could he have disappeared so fast? She remembered how he used to follow her – rooftops. Now that she knew where to look, she easily spotted him. He was not far from the Hanged Man and she rushed not to lose sight of him again. She was about to call his name when she felt someone grab her arm. She turned around to find Anders and Sebastian with worried looks on their faces.

"Are you mad, running off alone like this? It's not safe out here at night," the mage scolded her.

"I can take care of myself, Anders," she replied, freeing her arm from his grasp.

"It's been just a few days since you started practicing again," he argued.

"He's right, Hawke. Why take any chances?" the prince added.

She ignored them and looked around. Fenris was nowhere to be seen. "Shit!" she grumbled.

As if on cue, a group of thugs started creeping out of the corners around them. To make matters worse, they had mabaris too.

Anders quickly cast Heroic Aura upon him and his allies and enveloped them in barriers. They assumed defensive stances, with their backs to each other as the enemies surrounded them.

"They have a mage. Get him first," one of the thugs shouted.

Hawke immediately stepped in front of Anders and Sebastian rained arrows upon the incoming foes as the battle began. They were not used to fighting dogs and it proved to be much harder than they thought. Even wounded and bleeding the mabaris kept charging, relentless as ever.

Suddenly Fenris jumped in the fray. His bright lyrium ghost form attracted the enemies' attention which gave the rogues and the mage room to breathe. Anders extended his defensive spells to the elf and unleashed a firestorm. Sebastian sent a merciful hail of arrows to finish the already burning and screaming enemies while Hawke went after the ones that had escaped the attack, ending them with backstabs and explosive strikes. The Dog Lords were all dead, but there were still mabaris alive and fighting.

She heard Anders shout. A dog had pinned him on the ground, its teeth closed around his staff that he was holding in front of him for protection. Hawke reached them and ran a dagger through the hound's neck, spraying blood everywhere. The battle was over.

Anders pushed the mabari's body away from him and sat up to drink a lyrium potion.

Panting heavily, Hawke sat down by his side.

"Thank you," he told her with a smile. "Do you need healing?"

"Recover your mana first," she replied.

Sebastian and Fenris gathered around them. "We should not linger here," the elf said.

The archer offered a hand to help her up and she took it. Then she did the same for the mage. He got up and showered the four of them with healing magic.

Hawke look around at the many bodies of the gang they had just taken down. They were such a good team – Sebastian, Fenris, Anders and her. She wished the three men would get along better. The four of them could all go camping in the Wounded Coast some time… It would be just the distraction she needed… okay, now her mind was trailing off to a very naughty place.

"Why are you looking at us like that?" Fenris asked her.

"Like what?"  _Damn! Was it possible they noticed something? My loneliness is getting the best of me…_

"You had this silly crooked smile on your face," Anders said.

"It's nothing. It was great fighting at your side, gentlemen. I should go home now," she changed the subject.

The three men offered to accompany her there and she was grateful. She didn't want to be alone.

"Sure, let's go," she agreed and started walking.

They didn't move, just stood there staring at her.

Oh, right! Apparently, she would have to choose one. She couldn't have them all. Life could be so unfair… "Thank you, Anders, Sebastian. I'll go with Fenris; he… hmm… lives closer to my place." Really? That was her criteria to choose him? The elf must be so pissed at her right now…

Once it was just the two of them making their way to Hightown, he asked angrily, "Why did you come after me?"

"Because you were upset –"

"Upset? Upset doesn't even begin to describe what I am feeling, Hawke. That abomination, he is dangerous! You say the templars would have to go through you to get him, well, they just might. You feel guilty about what happened to your sister and you think putting yourself in harm's way for another mage will make up for that somehow? It won't. What happened to Bethany is not your fault and your willingness to sacrifice yourself for that abomination won't change anything," he lashed out furiously.

Hawke stared at him in dismay. The nerve of that elf! He was a mere inch taller than her, but she was feeling as if she were much shorter now. "This is none of your business. How dare you?"

"It became my business when you kissed me," he spat.

"YOU kissed me!" she retorted.

"You… teased me! Venehdis, woman! This is not the point!" he replied, frustrated and took a deep breath so he could continue more calmly. "This… you… became my business before that. The way you make me feel, Hawke, I… I have never felt like this before. I do not understand this. I do not know how to deal with it."

Okay, now she understood him, but it didn't mean she wasn't infuriated anymore. "Just because you're jealous it doesn't give you the right to talk to me like this."

"This is driving me mad, Hawke. Who is it you want? Is it the abomination? Is it the prince? Or is it me?"

It was him. The only moments she hadn't felt utterly miserable and lonely in jail were when the warrior had come for his reading lesson. He would always sit by her side and hold her hand in his. Sometimes he would stroke her cheek or gently tuck a lock of hair behind her ear and those little gestures of affection had helped her not to lose her mind in that horrible place. Apart from the day she was sick, that was the most anyone touched her while she was in prison. All her friends had spent time with her there, of course, but with Fenris it had been different and now she wanted to go all the way with him. She wanted to find out what it was that had made her feel drawn to him at first sight.

"It's you, Fenris," she stated.

They halted at her doorstep, facing each other.

"Because I live closer to your estate?" he asked in a spiteful tone.

_Okay, don't get mad at him. You deserved that_ , she reminded herself, taking a deep, calming breath. "Look, I don't know what it is; I just know that even disagreeing with you feels good. And we disagree all the time. We should hate each other, but yet I keep finding myself at your door and you keep following me around. I admire you, Fenris. You're smart and brave and handsome and… Do you want to come in?"

The anger was gone from his eyes, replaced by uncertainty. Yes, he wanted to come in. He wanted to kiss her and touch her and undress her… "I… don't know," he replied. He was afraid he wouldn't know how to treat her as she deserved, that he wouldn't know what to do and how to do it. Undressing, intimacy, sex… he could only relate these things to pain and humiliation. Danarius was so proud of the work he had done, carving those markings on his "little wolf". The magister loved to show his favorite pet off to his guests. And then there were things Danarius would force him to do that made him feel disgusted and ashamed and loathe himself…

Hawke noticed the angst that took over his elegant elven features. She knew she couldn't rush this, no matter how much she wanted, needed actually, to feel close to someone again. Fenris was a handsome man and it was obvious his master would have taken advantage of that. Tevinter magisters were known for their depravities and from what she had gathered about Danarius, he seemed to be an especially degenerate, vile one.

"Just for a drink, perhaps?" She held his hand in hers and squeezed it, encouraging him.

He nodded and followed her inside. The house was dark and silent. Everyone seemed to be asleep, except for Garrus, who happily greeted them at door.

"There's something I want to show you. I think you're going to like it," she said, a roguish grin on her face. Still holding his hand, her fingers now laced with his, she guided him through a narrow hallway and then down a flight of stairs.

She lit two lamps, handing him one and holding the other in front of her. Down a few more steps and she went through a door. "Here it is," she said. "Pick anything you like."

He raised his lamp in front of him to see an ample room, with dusty wine bottles piled up from the ground to the ceiling. His eyes widened and his lips curled into an amused half-smile. He began exploring the Amell cellars. There were other rooms after that first large one, with more bottles and barrels and other kinds of liquor too. He recognized the labels on many of the bottles and, thanks to Hawke, he could even read the words on them.

She let him take his time perusing the bottles, listening to his comments about the best vintages and most renowned producers. His mood had improved greatly since the night had started and she was enjoying seeing him more relaxed and lighthearted.

"Gamlen had lost the estate to slavers. You'd think they would have drunk everything in here, but they hadn't. They had drained practically all the barrels, but most of the bottles were intact. The best stuff is still here. And I've been adding some stronger spirits on Aveline's advice. I'll gladly buy more wine too if you have any to recommend me," she said.

"You should get a table down here," he suggested.

"I should," she sighed.  _And then_   _I would have you take me right over it_ , she added in thought and had to hold back a chuckle. Her subconscious was starting to sound disturbingly like Isabela. She had been without sex for longer than six, seven months like she was now, but she didn't think she had ever been this… horny? Needy? Lonely? Maybe she had gotten used to having a man on her bed after being with Cullen for almost two years. And then when she needed him the most he betrayed her…

"You don't have any Tevinter wine. Most are from Orlais and some from Antiva," Fenris remarked, interrupting her thoughts.

"Are those not to your tastes? I can buy Tevinter wine if you'd recommend any," she said.

"No. Orlais makes the best wines in Thedas. You do not want to buy any from Tevinter," he replied.

"Why not? You drink it all the time and you seem to like it."

"I drink it because it's already there. It might taste good, but I would never buy it."

"Why not?" she insisted.

"Tevinter wine is made of the blood and tears of slaves," he uttered.

"I hope you are exaggerating," she said in a playful tone.  _Or is he?_   _The Imperium is so twisted you can expect just anything from them_ … She couldn't help but snort and shake her head at that thought.

He didn't register, his attention completely devoted to a certain bottle he was gingerly removing from the stack. "Can I really pick anything?" he asked, licking his lips, a flicker of excitement lighting up his eyes.

"Sure. Is this it?" She pointed to the dusty bottle in his hands.

"It is."

"Let's go upstairs and open it then."

* * *

Fenris uncorked the bottle while Hawke picked up the wine glasses and they sat side by side on the couch in front of the lit hearth. Garrus slumped idly on their feet.

" _Château Pétrus_  is a legendary wine. The production is very small and each bottle is worth a fortune. They are not easy to find. This one is forty years old. Most wines would have gone bad at this age, but not this. This will be just perfect," the elf explained as he removed his gauntlets and filled their glasses by only a third.

Entranced by his deep, husky voice and his passion for the subject, she watched intently as he taught her how to best savor a wine this valuable.

Following his lead, she stirred the dark crimson liquid in her glass and brought it closer to her nose so she could better perceive its aromas. She expected it to be fruity like all red wine she had ever drunk. Instead its scent was floral, with a slight hint of tar and…

"Mushrooms," Fenris helped her identify the curious scent.

"Exactly," she grinned brightly and they raised their glasses for a toast.

"To your freedom," he said.

"To ours," she replied.

At that, he smiled. Not a half-smile. Not a smirk. An actual full smile. A genuine one. The kind that showed his teeth and all. He was… beaming. It was the first time she saw that look on his face. It was a beautiful, breath-taking sight and it made her heart skip a beat.

She realized there was only one thing she wanted more right now than to just go ahead and drink that oh so valuable wine and that was to kiss him.

He had never had the chance to drink a wine this precious and had been anxious to do it since the moment he had laid eyes on the bottle, but right now, the way she was looking at him… he realized there was nothing he wanted more than to kiss her.

And that was just what they did. They both tasted like the cheap ale they had been drinking at the Hanged Man. For them, right at that moment, no wine, no matter how precious, could taste better than that.

She drew her legs up, throwing them across his lap and scooting closer to him. Still holding the glass in one hand, she tangled the other in his white hair and angled his mouth to better fit hers as her tongue darted out to invade it.

He put the bottle down blindly and ran his free hand up her thigh until it was resting on her hip.

When they broke the kiss to catch their breaths, they finally tasted the wine. It was dense with a certain sweetness that reminded them of caramel. Even after drinking, its rich, savory taste lingered on the palate for a long time. It made their kissing even better.

His hand slid up to graze over her stomach and then shyly over her breast. So help her! It was too little but more than enough to make her want to get rid of their clothes and jump him.

"We should go to my room," she purred in his ear before even realizing what she was saying. What if he was not ready? What happened to not rushing him, to giving him time?

"Hawke, I… there is something I need to tell you," he uttered, an apprehensive look on his face.

She quickly pulled back, chiding herself internally for her lack of control.

"It's about my escape. You have the right to know who I am before we do this," he said.

And then he told her about his escape, about his time with the Fog Warriors, about how he killed them when Danarius ordered him to and all that came after that until he had ended up in Kirkwall.

Hawke held his hand in hers while he talked, stroking it reassuringly with her thumb. She made an effort to keep her voice neutral all the time while she asked him all she wanted to know, but she was actually worried. What he was really telling her was that he could not be trusted. That was the reason why he wanted her to hear this story before things got more complicated between them. It was a warning. It meant that if his former master returned, Fenris feared he might turn on her and their friends at the magister's bidding. He would never be completely free as long as that man lived.

They kept talking and drinking for a long time and eventually they fell asleep on the couch. It was early in the morning when they woke up with the noises of Bodahn and Sandal making breakfast in the kitchen. Fenris had his arms around Hawke and despite the things he had told her the day before, she was feeling completely safe and comfortable in his embrace. His confession hadn't changed how she felt about him. She still trusted him. If Danarius really came for him, she would help Fenris kill the magister and she was sure the elf wouldn't turn on her.


	30. It's All Too Much

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moment you've all been waiting for. Smut (of the elven kind!)

Hawke's companions decided it was not a good idea for her to go to the Gallows, at least not for a while. The rogue agreed, not at all eager to see Cullen again and not trusting herself not to go on a killing rampant the moment any templar crossed her path.

Over lunch that day Aveline brought news on Bethany from Solivitus. She also brought a list of rare ingredients he was looking for.

Varric snatched the list from the guardswoman. "Varterral's heart? I'm sure this is some very small docile, fluffy animal," he said sarcastically.

"Oh no, it's not fluffy. Such a shame," Merrill replied sweetly.

Hawke grabbed the list. "Dalish tattoo ink? Didn't you say your tattoos are made with your blood?" she asked the elven mage.

"They are," Merrill said.

"Why in Andraste's name Sol would want elven blood?" Anders asked.

"I have no idea," Aveline said. "He just gave me the list. What do you think we should do, Hawke?"

"Get him the ingredients, of course," she answered.

"Are you insane?" Fenris snarled. "There are no good reasons a mage would want blood."

"I trust Sol. He's a good man. He's been helping us and we'll help him," she said flatly.

"Maybe he wants to get a tattoo," Merrill offered cheerfully.

Varric burst in laughter. "I seriously doubt that, Daisy!"

"You don't even want to know what the blood is for?" Fenris asked indignantly.

"No, I don't," Hawke stated. "Let's go get it today. Soon it'll be snowing and I don't want to go to Sundermount in the snow just for some lousy ingredients. Varric, Aveline, can you help Choir Boy investigate the Harimann estate? Merrill, Anders, Isabela and Fenris, you come with me."

Fenris had yet to understand why Hawke felt the need to bring two mages to run a simple errand like that. He and the pirate were already going with her. Wouldn't one crazy mage be enough?

"I know what you're thinking, Fenris. Merrill is coming because she knows how to find a Varterral and how to get the tattoo ink," Hawke started.

"You mean blood," he corrected her.

She ignored his remark and continued, "and Anders is coming because we're safer with a healer around."

They didn't go far, though. As soon as they were out of Kirkwall they were ambushed by slavers that were after Fenris. The companions had no trouble overpowering the foes. However, by the look on the elf's face when he found out Danarius' star pupil was there too, hiding in a nearby cave, Hawke knew that situation had to be dealt with immediately. They would go to Sundermount some other time.

* * *

Fenris was glowing so bright it was hard looking directly at him. He reached for Hadriana's chest and ripped her heart out, squishing it his hand before tossing it on her pale, lifeless face.

"Yay! I love it when he does that", the pirate cheered.

Hawke rolled her eyes. "Not now, Isabela."

"We are done here," the elven warrior said, stalking past his companions as he headed outside the cave.

"You did what you had to, Fenris. I would have done the same. She deserved to die," Hawke offered, going after him.

He turned to face her, his lips curled in an angry snarl. "Oh, you think that was a good idea? This could be a trap! Danarius could have sent Hadrianna here to tell me about this  _sister_. Trying to find her would be suicide! But all that matters is I finally got to crush this bitch's heart. May she rot and all the other mages with her," he growled, a disgusted look on his face.

Merrill lowered her eyes, staring timidly at her feet. Anders just shook his head, looking completely unsurprised. Isabela's mouth fell open and her gaze was going back and forth from the angry elf to their appalled leader.

"Hey! Let's not forget about my sister!" Hawke protested.

"I haven't forgotten," the elven warrior spat. "You saw what was done here. There is always going to be some reason, some excuse why mages need to do this."

"You know damned well they're not all like your magisters!" Hawke argued, taking a menacing step towards him.

"And who should be our example? Anders? Merrill?" he retorted.

The mages were to about to say something, but Hawke beat them to it. "Yes! They are good people, Fenris. They could have gone back to Kirkwall, but they chose to come here and help you! There's also Bethany and Father."

"Blood mage," he muttered under his breath.

Hawke had a murderous look on her face as she unsheathed her daggers and twirled them in her hands. Fenris flared his markings. Anders and Merrill readied their staves. Isabela grabbed her blades for good measure as she stepped between the warrior and the rogue.

"Stop that!" the pirate ordered. "Let's all calm down, go back to Kirkwall, have a few beers and be friends again, shall we?"

Hawke swallowed hard and tried to calm herself. If Isabela was being the voice of reason, something was definitely broken in this group and she would have to act fast if she didn't want them to fall apart.

Looking into the warrior's eyes, Hawke sheathed her daggers. "Can we talk about this?"

"No, we can't!" he yelled and turned away from her.

Hawke took a deep breath as she tried to remember everything she liked about him so she wouldn't reach for her blades again. "You don't have to go through this alone, Fenris. I'm still willing to help you. We can go look for your sister, but you've got to stop offending me, my family and my friends. My patience is running thin," she warned him.

Isabela gave her a nod of approval for her effort. Anders scoffed. Merrill shifted uncomfortably on her feet.

"Even if we found my sister, who knows what the magisters have done to her? What has magic touched that it doesn't spoil?" he replied bitterly.

No deal, then, Hawke realized. Instantly, she was fuming again. All the effort she had just put in calming down had gone down the drain and she looked like she was about to start a screaming match.

Anders put a hand on her shoulder and shook his head. "Leave him. He's not worth it," he whispered.

Fenris shot them a nasty sideways glance and stalked out of there, quickly disappearing from view.

By the time Hawke and the others were back in Kirkwall, the sun had already set.

"Are you going to be okay?" Anders asked her.

"I'll be fine, thank you. Go see your patients. Isabela has my back," she replied.

"I do," the pirate agreed, giving the mage a saucy wink.

Anders rolled his eyes and left.

The rogues dropped Merrill off at her place and then Isabela put an arm around Hawke.

"Let me buy you a drink," the pirate said.

"Just one?" Hawke jested.

Isabela laughed. "We'll split the other ten," she replied.

"Deal."

* * *

Once in the Hanged Man, the two tired, battered and bloodied women told Varric about the events of that afternoon over a few drinks. Hawke was a complete mess, looking utterly dejected and downhearted.

"I'm sorry to say this, Killer…" the dwarf started.

"Killer? How creative," Hawke said wryly.

"He's losing his touch," Isabela teased.

"You wound me, Rivaini. I am not," the storyteller protested.

"Please, Varric. Man Hands has red hair, so you're calling her Red. It doesn't get any less original than that," the pirate replied.

Varric huffed. "This is not the point. I was saying that Broody might not be good for you, Hawke. Have you seen the spikes in his armor? He's like an angsty porcupine. Of course that elf has issues. A  _lot_  of issues. And you look terrible. I hate seeing you like this."

"I'm tired of feeling like this," she let out a disheartened sigh.

Varric and Isabela exchanged concerned glances. They had seen their friend like that twice before and they knew exactly what was going on. It was the beginning of another self-destructive melancholy mood. When she came back from the Deep Roads to find out Alistair was gone and Bethany had been taken to the Circle and then when she had been arrested she had gone through the same thing.

The dwarf felt bad for her. She deserved better.

"We could go to the Rose," Isabela suggested, trying to cheer her friend up.

Beautiful aquamarine eyes and slender nimble fingers immediately came to Hawke's mind. Jethann. That damned talented whore had really given her her money's worth that night they had spent together. It hurt that she was again thinking about paying someone to pretend he loved and cared about her, but it hurt even more to be constantly pushed away, rejected and yelled at and to be always alone when she most needed company. She could use Jethann's gentle touch and his ability to figure out just what she needed without her having to ask for it. He had touched and kissed and caressed every spot on her body, he had held her until she had fallen asleep, he had bathed her… How sadly ironic it was that she would go to a whore for love and not sex?

* * *

Fenris barged in Varric's suite at the Hanged Man looking frantically for Hawke. He found the dwarf alone, having a tankard of ale and writing. "Did Hawke return? Did she come here?"

"She did."

"Did you see her? How was she?"

"Covered in blood. Pissed. On the verge of tears when she started telling the things you said to her."

"I went to her house. I wanted to apologize, but she didn't show up."

"Broody, you're always hurting her and then apologizing, and then hurting her again, and then apologizing again. You must know your apologies mean nothing anymore, right?"

It was true. Nevertheless he had to try once again, not only saying he was sorry, but also not hurting her anymore. "Where is she?"

Varric sighed warily. He didn't know if he should tell, though a tiny part of him wanted the elf to know where she was and exactly what she was doing because he knew that information would hurt him and, by the Paragons, that sodding stubborn elf deserved it.

"Did she go back to her estate? Did she leave with the abomination? Tell me, dwarf!"

"No, she didn't."

"It's dark already. Is anyone with her?"

"Isabela is," Varric said and regretted it the minute the words were out of his mouth. The elf had to be a complete idiot not to figure this one out.

Fenris instantly did the math. It was pretty simple, really. There was only one place you'd find Isabela at night if not at the Hanged Man or out on a quest. "Is she at the Rose?" he asked, nervously running his fingers through his hair. This time he must really have outdone himself to cause Hawke to seek comfort at the brothel.

Varric looked down, pinching the bridge of his nose and gave a slight nod.

Fenris felt bile rising in his throat and his stomach turning into knots. Clenching his fists angrily and ignoring Varric shouting for him to stop, he left the tavern. He was mad and disgusted and disappointed at her and himself at the same time. He would not sit idly and leave this be.

He practically flew to Hightown, reaching the door to the brothel within five minutes or so. He stomped in there with a determinate look on his face and rage in his eyes.

Viveka intercepted his purposeful stride. "Do you need something, honey?"

"Is Hawke here?" he asked.

The waitress knew what was going on. This was not an unusual situation at the brothel. Frequently some jealous lovers or exes would storm the Rose looking for their better halves after hearing some gossip around town that the person had been seen in there. "There's no one here by that name. I think you should leave."

Fenris all but shoved her out of the way as he took the stairs to the bedrooms.

Viveka cried for Madame Lusine, who sent two bouncers after him.

The elf pushed open the door to the first bedroom. Isabela was naked on the bed with her legs spread open and Katriela between them, servicing her.

"Want to join us?" the pirate asked, licking her lips lewdly.

With a shudder, Fenris hastily closed the door. Isabela was laughing inside, probably finding his anger and jealousy very amusing. "Go easy on Hawke," she yelled as he was moving away from her room.

The bouncers, with Lusine and Viveka in tow, reached him.

"Get out of here, elf! You don't want trouble with us!" one of the men yelled.

He snorted. Like two bouncers could stop him! Even if they were twenty he wouldn't be stopped. He was going to get Hawke out of there no matter what. "It's you who do not want trouble with me!" He flared his markings and the men took a step back. "Tell me where Hawke is or I'll break open every door here!"

"Get him!" Lusine ordered.

The bouncers hesitated and the elf opened the second door. Bran and Serendipity. It took Fenris a moment to understand what exactly was going on there. He rushed to the next room hoping that the image of the bizarre scene he had just witnessed wouldn't forever be burned in his brain. Maker help him, this place was beyond repulsive. He'd better find Hawke soon.

The bouncers finally gathered the courage to act, but Fenris easily shoved them off and sent them rolling down the stairs. Viveka and Lusine hurried after them to see if they were alive.

The brothel was completely silent. Everyone was curiously watching the unraveling of another one of the Rose's jealousy scenes.

Fenris heard a moan that made his blood boil in his veins. Hawke's moan. She was behind the door he was about to burst open. He could only hope he wasn't too late.

He forced the door open and for a split second, before Hawke and Jethann stopped dead in their tracks to give him startled looks, Fenris saw her standing with her eyes closed and her head thrown back as the whore stood behind her, devotedly undressing her while trailing feather-light kisses down her neck.

Her armor was already off, but thank the Maker she still had her tunic and underpants on.

"What are you doing here? Get out!" Jethann said, stepping in front of his customer. "I'm sorry, beautiful. I'll make it up to you," he told her.

"Why are you here, Fenris?" she asked angrily.

The warrior pushed Jethann to the ground roughly.

"Hey!" both Hawke and the whore protested.

The rogue turned around to look for her daggers, but Fenris was faster. He swept her off her feet, tossed her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carried her out of there, an arm draped possessively over her ass the entire way back to her home. She squirmed and tried to fight him, but to no avail. He was much stronger than her and she couldn't escape his grasp, so she tried arguing with him. "This is ridiculous, Fenris. Put me down!"

"No!"

"Shit! Can't you see the mess I am, elf? Jethann takes cares of me. If I don't have that every once in a while how can I keep taking care of everyone else?"

"He is a whore. You pay him so he'll pretend to care for you."

"No one would do it for free! Am I not entitled some amount of joy in my life?"

"It is not real."

"I know that, but it's the closer I can get to the real thing. Put me down! I'm going back there. Now I want him even more," she retorted, her tone like that of a petulant teenager.

"No! Stubborn woman!" he yelled angrily.

She kept arguing, but he wasn't even bothering to answer her anymore. Thankfully she didn't live far from the Rose and her embarrassment wouldn't last much longer.

Finally they were inside her estate and he put her down. They started yelling at each other again. Bodahn quickly gathered his son and Orana and scurried them off to their quarters. Hawke and Fenris' argument was not at all suitable for minors.

Garrus rushed over, barking and bouncing around them, baring his teeth to the warrior as he anxiously waited for his mistress to order him to engage the hostile elf.

Fenris grabbed her shoulders and pushed her forcefully against the wall. "Will you listen to me?"

She started fighting him, so he pinned her, pressing his body flush on hers. Her mouth opened to protest and his eyes fell to her plump lips. What was he doing? He was probably hurting her, but at the same time he wanted to kiss her. He was completely losing his mind. He looked away hesitantly and was about to take a step back when her mouth captured his.

Leandra got there to check what was all that yelling about and she was just in time to see her daughter spinning the elf around and slamming his back against the wall. As Hawke's teeth started grazing down his neck, Leandra hurried back to her room and locked herself inside. Her older daughter was a lost cause.

Hawke grasped his hand and led him hastily towards her bedroom. The day before she had thought he needed more time and that they should take it slow. Today her resolve laid crumbled on the floor. She wouldn't wait another second. She couldn't.

Inside her bedroom, his demeanor changed completely. He knew what was about to happen and had no idea how he was supposed to act.

Hawke noticed his hesitation and tried to rein in her lust, so she could guide him and teach him and make sure he would have a pleasurable experience for once. "Do you trust me?"

He breathed deeply. "I do."

"Relax," she said as she started to undress. She didn't want him to feel exposed, so only after she had removed all her remaining clothes and undergarments did she start unbuckling his armor.

Fenris' mouth went dry and he licked his lips at the sight of her completely bare in front of him, his body instantly reacting to that stunning view.

She took her time undressing him, kissing and stroking every bit of flesh exposed. He was only in his breeches now and as she unlaced them, he flinched and then stiffened and his breathing became heavy.

"Trust me," Hawke whispered reassuringly in his ear. She nipped gently at his earlobe and felt him shiver pleasurably. She started kissing her way down his neck, chest and stomach until she was kneeling in front of him. His erection was straining in his leggings and she stroked him over the fabric, making his breath catch audibly in his throat.

She took off his leggings to find out his underwear was black. No surprise there. Black had been Isabela's first guess.

When Hawke reached for his last piece of clothing, his hands moved instinctively to stop her.

"I won't hurt you," she said, kissing his length over his smalls.

The elf closed his eyes and breathed deeply and taking it as a silent consent, she slid his underwear down and he stepped out of it.

His beautiful markings were everywhere. A very intricate design, even more carefully made than on the rest of him, ran up to the tip of his cock. She tried not to think of the pain he must have felt, imagining instead how he would taste like with all that lyrium right there.

Afraid of how she was going to react to him, he swallowed hard and kept his eyes shut. He could feel her breath blowing warmly right next to his hard length and he tensed. The next thing he felt were her lips meeting the tip of his shaft.

Her hands clutched at his muscular thighs as her mouth encircled him, slowly gliding back and forth and spreading moisture so he would slide more easily and smoothly between her lips each time.

His breathing was already becoming labored and he looked down at her. His eyes were dark with lust as he watched her on her knees, moving faster now, sucking him hungrily. It had never crossed his mind that a woman like her would want to do that for him.

He was about to come undone, so he tangled a hand in her hair and pulled her up to kiss her.

Hawke led him to the bed and laid down on her back. He came over her, bracing himself on his arms as he kissed and nipped her neck. His teeth grazed a spot that made her moan and he didn't resist the urge to bite and suck her right there and mark her as his.

His mouth kept exploring her body. He cupped one breast as he gave the other open-mouthed kisses. His lips closed around a pert nipple, suckling it while his fingers gently squeezed the other.

"Fenris… harder, please," she begged breathlessly.

That woman would definitely be the death of him. He complied, sucking harder and biting down at her pebbled nipple as his fingers squeezed the other even more, making her moan wantonly and whimper as she arched her back and rocked her hips against him.

Fenris could smell the scent and feel the warmth of her womanly core and suddenly he wanted nothing more than to taste her. He slid down to position himself between her thighs and… he had no idea what to do or where to touch in that mess of dark curls and pink folds.

"Teach me?" he asked shyly.

Bending her knees and spreading her legs wider, she grabbed his hand to guide him. As she slid his forefinger inside her, her wetness and heat made him gasp. She brought his slick digit up to her clit and showed him how to please her. Her enticing aroma was getting more intense and before he knew it, his tongue delved inside her, tasting her, eagerly drinking her.

The feel of his tongue inside her made her buck her hips and writhe shamelessly, moaning his name along with wordless lustful sounds. She was really close now and her fingers entwined gently in his hair as she led his mouth to her swollen nub.

"Like you did with your finger, do it with your tongue now," she said. Their eyes met as she gave him the instruction and for a moment there she had an uneasy feeling.

She hastily shook it off when he started circling her clit with his tongue, applying pressure and then sucking it slightly. Her hands began clawing the sheets, clutching and twining them around her fingers as she squirmed in pleasure. He grabbed her thighs to pin her in place as he intensified his ministrations and her orgasm hit in a frantic wave of ecstasy.

She was still shivering with the aftershocks of her climax when he came over her and the tip of his cock brushed her slick folds. There was again uncertainty in his face. He looked like he was asking her for permission.

Reaching a hand between them, she guided him inside her. Again she had that weird feeling in her gut. There was something strangely familiar about that whole situation.

He moaned low and guttural as he sheathed himself inside her and she completely forgot what she was thinking about. Her velvety walls, so tight, warm and wet around him made probably for the best sensation he had ever had in his entire life. She drew her legs up and around him, taking him deeper into her, urging him to move harder and faster.

His release was already upon him. She was tightening even more around his shaft, squirming and moaning, "Oh, Fenris!" and that proved to be too much. Looking into the dark pools of her eyes, he kissed her before crying out her name and throwing his head back as he pumped his bubbling hot seed inside her.

She was about to come with him, but in that brief moment where his eyes met hers just before he came, realization dawned on her and her climax was lost. She had finally understood why she had felt drawn to him at first sight. She could finally put her finger on that  _something about him_  that until just now she hadn't been able to figure out what it was.

His eyes. Green and bright and eager to learn how to please her. Like Arthur's eyes. Like the eyes of her first love, her fiancé. The eyes of the man she had let be killed by the darkspawn and had abandoned at the side of a road. That was what had made her feel drawn to Fenris from the start; his eyes, same as Arthur's. And this night had held little difference from her first night with Arthur too…

* * *

Panting, the elf rolled off to her side. His vision blackened and his head started spinning.

_He was just a child. Black hair. No markings. He was pulling on red pigtails._

" _Ouch! Mommmm!" the girl yelled._

_An elven woman with weary eyes came out of a door. "Leto! Leave your sister alone! Come inside you two, now!"_

He blinked. Another memory.

_He was sixteen and was tending to one of his master's horses inside a large stable. A blond elven girl came over and smiled brightly at him. They usually sparred together, both training to be part of Danarius' guard. They looked around to see if there was anyone else in sight. They were completely alone and so they kissed. It was not the first time. They were always finding dark, secluded spots in Danarius' manor to meet in secret and make out. Ariadne was her name and he liked her. He really liked her._

His heart was pounding in his chest. Everything was coming back to him in haste and he had never felt this excited before. Happy, even. He remembered. Finally, he remembered something. He blinked again. Nothing. All he saw this time was darkness. The memories were gone as suddenly as they had come.

He dragged his hands over his face in despair. He knew there had been names, faces, places, but he couldn't recall any of them. The angst he felt was overwhelming. That whole situation was. It was all too much, too fast. He wanted to leave, to be alone. But what about Hawke? He had just slept with her and it had been better than anything he could have dreamed. What it was going to look like if he walked out on her now? Would she ever forgive him?

He didn't have time to decide which route he was going to take, because she had already decided for him. Hawke was up, dressed in her robes and she was handing him his clothes and armor.


	31. Within You Without You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No chapter summary this time, just an author's note: I was so mad at Fenris when he left Hawke the first time I romanced him, that I wanted to write a story where she was the one to leave him. While I was thinking of a reason for her to do that, my imagination ran wild with ideas and a thousand other little things that I would change about the game. This was how FaaB came to existence. I hope you're enjoying the ride.

"Is something wrong? Was I not…" Fenris trailed off embarrassedly. Had he fallen short of her expectations?

"You were fine."  _Stupid answer. Also, a lie._  "No, that's not what I wanted to say. You were wonderful, Fenris," she added with a sad smile.

"Yet you seem to be throwing me out," he uttered.

She looked briefly into his eyes and turned away, running her hands over her face. "This… you… brought up some memories."

"Memories?" How odd was it that he was having the exact same problem?

"Painful ones that I had never had the courage to really deal with. I had never allowed myself enough time to reflect upon them, to heal. I had to be strong, there was no time to grief."

"Do you want to… talk about it?" he asked, uncertain.

"You don't understand, Fenris. I'm not ready to do this and I don't know if I'll ever be. A lot of people need me to lead them, help them, save them. I cannot deal with this," she gestured to both of them, "not right now."

He got up and solemnly ignored his clothes and armor in her hands as he reached to caress her cheek. "Hawke, Marian, please…"

"I buried these feelings a long time ago and you brought them to surface all at once. So help me, you remind me too much of him," she said, her voice shaken and her breathing heavy. "I'm sorry, Fenris. You have to go."

"Don't do this, Marian. I… need you," he pleaded.

"Please, stop calling me Marian. Only Mother calls me that. And  _he_  did. He… Your eyes, Fenris… they're too much like his. I can't look at you right now. This is killing me."

"Who are you talking about? Is this about your fiancé?"  _Or is it about Cullen? Alistair? Jethann? Some other lover I don't know about?_ Anger and jealousy started building up inside him and before he knew it, he was raising his voice at her again. "Tell me!"

"If you don't leave, Fenris, I will!" Hawke said, frustrated.

When he didn't move, she threw his belongings to the floor, put on her boots, grabbed a pair of spare daggers and stormed out of the bedroom, whistling for Garrus to follow her.

Hastily putting on his clothes and armor, Fenris went after her. She had already left the estate which worried him. Hightown wasn't safe at night and she wasn't wearing any armor. How could she be so incredibly stubborn that she would leave the house in a robe?

Once out on the street he looked around to all the possible routes she could have taken. There was no sign of her, no noise and no movement anywhere.

"Hawke," he called. She couldn't have gone very far, but she was a pretty damn good rogue. It would be hard to find her if she didn't wish to be found, even if she were close.

There was a chance she could have gone back to the Rose, but he didn't want to go in there again and make another scene, so he decided to go to the Chantry and ask Sebastian to do that for him.

"Why would she be at the brothel?" the prince asked, making Fenris curse under his breath. The elf could really do without the interrogation.

"The pirate was there," he replied flatly.

"Why would a woman go there?"

"Ask her. I do not wish to talk about this. Will you help me or not?"

Sebastian agreed, but insisted they should go get Aveline to join them. Apparently, he didn't want to go inside the Rose too. At least the guardswoman didn't ask any questions and for that Fenris was grateful. It probably wasn't that big of a surprise for her that Hawke might be at the brothel or in trouble.

The men waited outside while Aveline went into the Rose. She came back minutes later with only Isabela in tow.

The pirate shot the elf a nasty, accusing glare, but said nothing.

The next most probable place Hawke would be, if she had not been attacked by one of the gangs that plagued Kirkwall's nights, was the Hanged Man. If…

Hightown market was littered with bodies. They checked them and were relieved to find out they all belonged to the Invisible Sisters. Following the path of blood and destruction, waging that Hawke would be at the end of it, they took the stairs to Lowtown. More bodies, now from the Dog Lords and their mabaris. Unfortunately, this time Hawke was among them. Alive, but barely. She had passed out on a pool of her own blood, not far from the Hanged Man.

Fenris hastily ripped a strip of fabric off the hem of her dark red robe and tied it right above a bite wound on her calf that was bleeding badly. She was freezing, there were multiple cuts, scratches and bruises throughout her body and it was obvious she was going to need a healer. A good one. There was no way around it – he would have to take her to the abomination and bear with that blighted man running his hands all over her.

They heard barking and readied their weapons. As Sebastian was about to take a shot at the incoming hound, Aveline pushed him, making him miss. He gave her an indignant look, but Isabela promptly explained. "It's Garrus, you daft man."

The dog was running back towards his human with Varric on his heels.

"Garrus went to get to me. Scared the shit out of everyone in the tavern. What happened?" the dwarf asked and then he saw Fenris lifting Hawke's limp body in his arms. "Oh, no."

They all rushed to Anders' clinic hoping it wouldn't be too late.

* * *

"She's awake," the healer announced tiredly to the anxious group of people that were crowding and pacing around in his clinic, waiting for news on their friend.

They immediately gathered around the worn cot Hawke was lying in.

"We found you half-dead and soaked in blood in Lowtown, Hawke. You were not wearing armor and had only Garrus with you. Why would you do this? Are you trying to get yourself killed?" Aveline asked in a reprimanding tone.

The rogue's eyes roamed through her companions' faces and settled on Fenris. Her voice came out weakly as she asked, "Why are you here?"

"He carried you here," Varric chimed in, noticing the angry look on the elf's face. The warrior seemed like he was about to burst. There was something else going on there, the dwarf was sure of it. "Aren't you going to tell us why you were out on the street in your house robes?"

"I was upset and wanted to vent. You know, kill someone and then get drunk with you at the Hanged Man," she told Varric, forcing out a smile.

"Remind me not cross your path when you're upset, then. You left over thirty bodies behind," Isabela pointed out playfully.

"Thank you for helping me. I'm fine now. You can go," Hawke told everyone, but Fenris took it personally.

"No. You will not push me away," he replied.

Nobody moved, all curious to see what that was about.

"Excuse me?" Hawke asked indignantly.

"One minute everything was fine and on the next you were throwing me out so desperately that you could not even wait for me to leave, you just had to go out without your armor and try to get yourself killed," he snapped.

Their companions were looking at them with wide eyes.

"Can you give us some privacy?" Hawke asked them. She tried to sound calm but there was a certain edge to her voice.

Fenris didn't wait for their answer. He pulled one of the screens that separated some of the cots and put it almost over their nosy friends' feet, forcing them to take a step back and stay behind it.

"I was in your bed thinking of doing the same to you. I was going to leave you. I wanted to," the elf continued.

Varric sighed and tossed a sovereign to a grinning Isabela.

"Then why didn't you? Why did you go after me? Why are you here?" Hawke asked, irritated.

"If I hadn't gone after you, you would be dead."

"What do you care? You just said you wanted to leave."

"But I did not. How many times have I saved you, Hawke? Is this not proof enough that I care for you? When you threw me out, I felt… It hurt. I was relieved I did not do the same to you. I would not be able to live with myself if I had hurt you like that."

"Are you saying this out of spite? Or are you trying to be the bigger person here on my expense? Because you've just said you wanted to leave me right after we slept together and I'll not let you make me the bad guy now just because I beat you to it."

"You do not know the effect you had on me, Hawke. You do not know how upset I was. I remembered things too. While you chose to forget, I was never given the option. Everything I once had was taken from me and then for a second there, while we were together, my memories came back to me. And a second later they were gone again. I couldn't hold on to anything. I felt lost."

"I never chose to forget, Fenris. My mistakes haunt my every step. They are like wounds that never properly healed, but then all of a sudden I felt like they were freshly open again."

"They're going too fast. It's hard to keep up with them going at it like this," Varric said, scribbling furiously on his notebook.

"They are having sex – that's all you need to know. I can fill in the details for you. I'm sure what I have in mind is much more interesting than all this angry babbling," Isabela said. "Oh, you might want to add that Anders is not taking this well." Smirking, she pointed at the healer.

Fenris' head appeared on the side of the screen. "Go away," he told them angrily.

"Come on, people. Sex is supposed to be a good thing. You're ruining the whole idea of it," the pirate said.

Was it too much to wish their companions would be polite and just give him and Hawke some privacy?

Shaking his head as he tried to focus in making things better with the rogue, Fenris turned back to her. She had flirted with him since the day after they had met and because he was afraid and untrusting he had never claimed her for himself. He had let her wander around looking for affection in the arms of men that were completely unworthy of her. It was time to do something about that. It was unnerving to think her friends would probably hear him, but he decided to just go through with it and tell Hawke all he wanted to, before it was too late.

"I have never been with anyone before you, because the pain these filthy markings cause me when I'm touched is too much to bear. But it is not like that with you. Nothing is like I imagine it would be when I'm with you, Hawke. I-I-"  _want you, need you, can't stop thinking about you, am in love with you._ "I think you're a remarkable woman." He couldn't say everything.

"Awwww," they heard Isabela say in an exaggerated, mocking tone.

"I'm a remarkable woman? Just because it doesn't hurt when I touch you? Since you have complaints about everything else I do, what you mean is the fact that you can stand to fuck me is the only reason why you're still here. Did I get that right?" Hawke retorted.

"No. That is not why I'm still here. You are much more than that to me, Hawke. But you cannot expect me to approve when you act like a reckless, stubborn child. You willingly endangered your life tonight. What about the people you said that count on you, that you have to help? Did you not think of your mother or your friends? You do not realize how selfish you actually are. Do you think you can completely disregard their feelings… my feelings?"

"I disregarded  _your_  feelings? Which are…? I don't think you ever told me! I always have to wait for some frigging life-changing situation for you to spill out a few words and if I'm lucky, a hint of emotion. You've treated me like shit since day one, the moment you saw I worked with mages. You're always offending Merrill and Anders who happen to be good friends and have helped you all these years despite the disgust on your face every time you look at them. You don't even call them by their names."

"You defend these mages and so desperately cling to their pleas because you feel guilty about your sister being taken to the Gallows. It is unfortunate what happened to her there, but mages belong in the Circle where they can be watched. You help dangerous apostates and blood mages, let them loose, so that you can clear your conscience about not being able to rescue her. You even whored yourself to the Knight-Captain for these mages and look what happened! What else would you do for them?" he regretted these words they moment they scurried out of his mouth but now they were out there and causing enormous damage.

"Ouch! That was a low punch," Isabela couldn't help saying.

Sebastian put his head around the screen. "Fenris, how can you say that about Hawke?" the Chantry brother reprehended him and then turned to Hawke. "Look, lass, I always stood up for you when people said you were… I don't think you were. You and Cullen really loved each other."

Varric pulled the prince back to their side of the screen. "Not right now, Choir Boy," he said.

Hawke just scoffed at Sebastian's naïve intervention and fell right back into her argument with Fenris. "How dare you drag Bethany into this? Have you no heart? You know what, you're lucky you don't have any memories of your family because there's no pain greater than losing the ones you love." She was so mad at that blighted elf that even punching a wall and gutting an ogre might not be enough to calm her down right now. Inhaling sharply, she continued, "You never trust my decisions. Just yesterday, when I gave Orana a job, you thought I was taking her as a slave. How could you think so little of me? You've known me for three years! How many slavers have you seen me kill? Have I ever given you any indication that slavery is something I'm fine with? Was I not in a Maker forsaken cave helping you hunt down your former master and his pet apprentice? And you dumped me there after yelling at me for no reason whatsoever in front of everyone!"

Fenris hung his head between his slumped shoulders. She could see how miserable he was but, oh no, she wasn't done yet. "You know my father was a mage and so is my sister. I'd give my life for them, you also know that, and yet you yelled the most awful offensive rant you could come up with about mages at my face as if Bethany and Father were the same as those power-crazed slaver magisters from Tevinter. Anders and Merrill were in that damned cave too, risking their lives to stand by you. How many times has Anders healed you or weakened himself sacrificing a portion of his mana to keep you protected during battle?"

Anders briskly went around the screen, handed Hawke a glass of water and left. Noticing she was far from done, he wanted to help her go on. Fenris needed to be put in his place. That beast had gotten away with that ungrateful and offensive attitude towards them for too long.

Hawke emptied the glass and put it aside. "Remember how you reacted when I gave you the Book of Shartan? You always expect the worst from me. You say I'm selfish? People come to me to ask for help with every petty problem they have because they know I listen to them, they know they can turn to me because I care and I help them. And no matter whom I'm working for I always try to do the right thing even if that sometimes means going against the person that hired me in the first place. I rather lose the coin than wrong anyone."

Another pause. He felt like he should take it to say something but he couldn't. It was all true. She gave him everything free of charge and with no strings attached – support, opportunity, trust, kindness, friendship, love. She had always treated him like a man, admiring and desiring him. There was never pity in her eyes; she had never looked down on him. Everyone wanted something from her, he included, and she had never said no. She was putting herself in danger everyday for the benefit of her friends and even random people. How many injuries had she sustained solving problems for others? Not long ago his hands had run over so many scars on her beautiful bare body. Would he never have the chance to touch her like that again? Probably not. He had gone too far. To say the least, he had been ungrateful, scoffing and frowning at her judgment time and time again. And yet she would show up the next day on his door to get him with a warm smile upon her face. He had killed Hadriana though he had promised not to and Hawke had understood. She had even said the bitch had deserved to die. When he had told her about his escape and how he had slaughtered the Fog Warriors she had shown him nothing other than understanding and acceptance in her eyes. She had never been judgmental. She had never condemned his calls. When had he done the same for her? Not once.

Fenris felt ashamed. He hadn't realized he was so broken. How could he have thrown away all the good things Hawke had freely given him? These people, Hawke's people were the closest thing he had to a family – she had given him that too, she had welcomed him warmly into her band – and he had treated them all with naught but contempt.

His fingers ran through his hair as realization hit him hard. He fell down on his knees, hands covering his face. He was a slave, Danarius still held his leash and steered his life.

The silence was so overwhelming in the clinic right now that a fly would sound like a dragon in there. Since no one seemed able to move – was anyone even breathing? – and Hawke wasn't at her best, Varric decided to take charge and disband them for the night before things got even worse. "Hawke, I think that's enough," the dwarf said, removing the screen that separated them. "Choir Boy, Rivaini, you can go," he shooed the two rogues.

Isabela smiled mischievously. "Sebby, would you put me to bed?" she purred.

The prince just shook his head, too tired to protest, as Varric pushed them out of the clinic.

"Blondie, Red, get Hawke home. Maybe one of you could keep her company and make sure she will be fine. Elf –"

"Just leave, Fenris. That's what you want to do, isn't it? Do it. Go," Hawke said harshly, interrupting any comforting words Varric could offer him.

Without meeting her eyes the elf got up, walked a few steps towards the door and halted. Would he prove her right about this too? He swallowed hard and looked back at Hawke.

"Hawke, here. I missed a spot, sweetheart," Anders said. Gently, he put his fingers over the love mark Fenris had left on her neck and healed it.

The elven warrior fumed, the lyrium in his skin instantly beginning to glow. That wretched abomination was already trying to replace him. He couldn't leave. He wouldn't let her throw herself in the arms of even more undeserving men, not again. And that despicable mage was certainly the worst possible man for her. Why didn't Varric send Sebastian with her anyway?

Fenris stomped angrily towards the healer.

Not at all intimidated, Anders stepped in front of Hawke to face the elf. "You caused this! She could have died!" His eyes were already glowing that disturbingly familiar  _Justice blue_ shade.

The elven warrior unsheathed his sword. After having lost everything he cared about in his life before even acknowledging and appreciating any of it, he might just kill the abomination and be done with this.

"Hey, if you want to kill each other, go ahead. I bet two sovereigns on Broody here. But you'll just make Hawke suffer. Is that what you want, eh, Glow Boys?" Varric chimed in and shot Hawke a pleading look, asking with his eyes for her to back him up.

He didn't even need to ask, though. Of course she wouldn't let them kill each other. Not for her, at least. "Stop that! If one of you kills the other, then you are both dying, because I will kill whoever is left. Believe me, I will," she said in a menacing tone, between gritted teeth.

The men didn't move any further but kept the murderous stares on their faces.

"If none of you are willing to fight me for your lives next, than you'll stop this glowing shit right now," she continued.

"Phew," Varric sighed relieved when they did.

"That's right, I didn't think so," she said, annoyed. "Let's go. Aveline, Anders, help me out here." She put her arms around the Guard-Captain and the healer to steady herself as she got up and, with Garrus trotting behind them, they aided her in walking out of the clinic, all carefully avoiding eye contact with Fenris.

What Varric saw next broke his heart. Crestfallen, the warrior waited for Hawke to disappear around the corner with her friends and then grabbed the piece of blood-stained dark red fabric that lay discarded on the ground and tied it around his wrist. It was the same strip of fabric he had ripped off her robes to stop the bleeding on her leg.

The dwarf sighed wearily and signaled Fenris to follow him. "We need to talk, elf. Let's go to the Hanged Man. That lovely mansion of yours gives me the creeps."

Fenris nodded and went after the dwarf. He had no idea if there was any way to make that situation any better, but Varric just might.


	32. Tell Me Why

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Explanations. Also, sooner rather than later, I give you bachelor #6!

"Do you love her?" Varric asked.

"No," Fenris replied.

"This gross, bloodied memento on your wrist says otherwise."

Fenris said nothing, just gave the dwarf one of his completely expressionless looks.

"Are you going to leave?" the dwarf asked.

"I don't know."

"If you do, she'll probably end up having Blondie's babies."

"What do you care? Didn't you bet on him?"

"I did, because I can't resist a good bet and I wanted to win. Blondie is… smoother than you, elf. I thought she would fall for him. Look, I like him. The man's been through a lot and he deserves some happiness, you know. But I don't think he's good for her."

"And you think I am?"

"No, of course not!"

"What is your point, dwarf?"

"You see, I think you might be good for her eventually if you work on this angsty broody act of yours. While Blondie… there's no getting better there. He's a sodding possessed apostate! It'll only get worse. Listen to me. She'll fall into his arms next, I can tell, and if you're not here to give her some perspective, he'll get her killed. After what happened to Sunshine, Hawke's been ready to throw her life away storming the Circle or doing some other crazy shit against the templars at any moment. One word of encouragement is all she needs to go on a murder-suicide run in the Gallows and, have no doubt, elf, this word will come from Blondie."

Fenris seemed to be analyzing that for a moment.

"What really happened between you two? Why did she throw you out?" Varric asked.

"She said I reminded her of someone."

"What's-his-name – that dead fiancé of hers."

"How do you know?"

"Just a wild guess. Don't worry, I'll make her talk."

"How?"

"How? You wound me, elf! I have my ways of getting people to talk. How do you think I know all these stories I tell? I don't make them up out of the blue."

Fenris raised a brow, giving him a wary look.

"Ok, I enhance them, but they all have some truth deep down."

"You're just going to get her drunk," the warrior said.

"Hey, do you want to know what went wrong or not? What matters is that in the end we'll know the whole story," Varric replied.

* * *

The next day, Hawke was lying on her stomach on her bed for Anders to inspect the wound on her calf when Bodahn came into the room to drop her armor and daggers.

"I hope you're not planning on going on any quests today. It's snowing outside and you need to rest so you can recover. This bite wound on your calf will need more work. Your skin and muscles were completely shredded, you know," the mage said.

"At least the scar I got at the Deep Roads from that stupid bear trap is gone."

"And will probably be replaced by a bigger, nastier one."

"I should have sought a better healer," she teased.

He just rolled his eyes and began to work. The bandage on her calf was bloodied and had clung to her wound. When he removed it, she winced and groaned and suddenly he became much too aware of how short her robe was and how long her bare shapely legs were. Taking a deep breath, he tried to focus on cleaning the injury, but the moment he touched it, she flinched, causing her skirt to hike a little higher on her thighs.

It was too much exposed skin for him not to look. Maker help him, he was only human. "Don't move," he managed to say as he shook his head and turned back to the darkened, sore wound.

However, as much as he was trying to be careful and gentle, she wouldn't stop jerking with his every touch and that was making it impossible for him to do anything but stare at her round, taut, squirming ass.

He could cast a sleeping spell upon her or keep her in place with a glyph of paralysis. Instead, he leaned his weight on one wide hand, pressed firmly on her muscular thigh, pinning her leg on the bed. She moaned and he felt his blood rushing south, despite of Justice's disapproval ringing inside his head.

"Can't you stay quiet? Why are you being such a baby?" the mage grumbled, frustrated.

"Because I'm in pain."

"The wound is infected. You're supposed to be in pain. But I'm sure you've had worse than this, so, please, be a good girl and stop squirming."

All he had to do was clean Hawke's injury, do another round of healing magic and cover it with new bandages – nothing he hadn't done a thousand times before, but it was proving to be harder than his Harrowing. The demons in the Fade hadn't tempted him this much.

_Focus on her disgusting wound, not her ass_ , he told himself, sighing heavily as he resumed his task.

* * *

It was Haring 30th and Hawke went to the Hanged Man to celebrate with her friends. Except for Sebastian, who would attend the late night service to welcome First Day in prayer in the Chantry, they were all there. Even Fenris. Hawke had been sure he wouldn't show up, thinking he'd probably be across the sea by now. However, when she pushed the door to the tavern open, he was the first person she saw. They didn't exchange any words, just greeted each other with a polite nod and sat down as further apart as possible around the large table on the dwarf's suite. She noticed the stained red band tied around his wrist and found it odd. It looked familiar, though she couldn't quite figure out what exactly it was.

Norah seemed resolute in not letting Hawke run out of liquor and the rogue wondered if she had been feeding the waitress more generous tips lately. The more she drank, the less she cared, though, and two hours later she was somewhat inebriated. Varric knew that woman could hold her liquor, but his curiosity won over his patience and he decided to take a chance and ask his questions. He had lost count of how many times he had asked her about Ostagar and about her fiancé and now there was that deal with the elf too… There was way too much he didn't know. Why did she have to be so secretive? But at least she was tipsy and he hoped it would be enough to finally get some answers from her.

"So, Killer, you and the elf – "

"Again with this dim nickname?" Isabela interrupted as she got back to the table carrying a bottle of rum and poured everyone a shot. "A toast," she said, raising her glass.

Aveline mimicked the pirate's gesture. "To friends," she said.

All cheered and downed their shots, except for Hawke, who was staring at Fenris' direction, completely oblivious to what was going on around her. "What is that?" she asked, pointing at the red band on the elf's wrist and saving the dwarf the trouble of broaching the subject again.

Hastily, the warrior lowered his arm to hide it under the table.

"It's a strip of fabric from your robe he used to stop the bleeding on your leg and save your life," Varric said, paying close attention to see how she was going to react to that.

"Ah…" She looked into Fenris' eyes and then down to the ring on her finger. Running her thumb over the hawk carved on it, she murmured something that only the elven warrior could make out, "I'm sorry, love. I'm so, so sorry."

She emptied her glass, gestured Isabela for a refill and immediately downed it too. "It was not your fault, Fenris. You did nothing wrong."

After taking a moment to reflect upon that, she added with a wry little smile, "Not that night, at least."

Everyone was looking expectantly at her and before they could say or ask anything, she continued. "Dwarf, how is that tale of yours coming out?"

Varric leapt at the opportunity. "Lacking. There's not much on my hero before she came to Kirkwall. I'm making up a lot of stuff there, but I bet the truth is even better."

"I'm sure it's not." She poured herself another shot and drank it. "The truth is not pretty. There's nothing heroic about it. The truth is that I killed the man I loved. I did. He was going to be my husband and I killed him. I'm not good enough for this tale of yours, dwarf. I'm no hero."

Anders held her hand as she reached for the bottle again. "You had too much already."

Yanking her hand out of his grasp, she grabbed the rum and took a swig straight from the bottle.

"Your sister said he died at Ostagar. I don't know how that can be your fault," Varric tried to put her back on track.

"It was my fault that he went to fight at Ostagar, but he survived. We fled together. Ostagar didn't take his life. I did." Turning to Fenris, she uttered bitterly, "You have his eyes. These big fucking green eyes. It's what I remember most about him, you know… his fucking eyes open, frightened, lifeless because of me."

The elf didn't know what to do with himself. Her gaze was heavy with angst and pain and he looked away from her.

"What do you want to know? Ask away. You're always prying. Don't be shy now," she hissed to her companions.

Isabela looked at the others, all silent and with different levels of guilt and embarrassment showing on their faces, and she rolled her eyes. "How was he?"

Hawke was surprised. She had thought they would shy away and leave her alone after her little outburst. Stupid plan, she now realized, when there was someone incapable of shame in the room. "What do you mean?"

"I mean in bed, of course. What else?" Rivaini replied.

"Really, whore?" Aveline called on the pirate.

"She said we could ask. This is my question. So, was he your first?"

Hawke let out an unladylike snort. "Fine. He was. And I thought he would be the only one. I never even looked to another man in Lothering. Arthur had my heart since we were kids, but it took me years to realize it…"

She might not have liked it but at least she had answered and Varric felt encouraged to ask a follow-up question. "What happened at Ostagar?"

Another gulp on the bottle and she began telling them the most secret story of her past. The only other person who knew exactly how Arthur had died was Carver and he was dead too. Hawke had told Alistair about it, but without mentioning the hardest part – that she had let her fiancé die to save her brother and had abandoned his body on the road to save herself. Worst of all, Arthur wouldn't even be at Ostagar if she hadn't had that childish tantrum and given him back his ring.

Her speech was slurred and her eyes unfocused. She kept touching the ring on her finger and fidgeting uncomfortably on her chair. By the time she finished the story, Merrill was on the verge of tears and the party mood was ruined.

"And Arthur looked like Broody here?" Varric asked.

Hawke bit her lower lip as she looked up, remembering her fiancé and reflecting upon that sad coincidence. "He did. Not just the eyes. There was something… elven about him, but I had never thought of it back then. I've only realized it a few days ago when I was with… you," she gave Fenris a mirthless smile. "Arthur never talked about his mother and I never asked, but she had been buried, not cremated. There were a few elves in Lothering working at the farms and his father was a farmer. He could have been half-elven, I guess."

"I knew you had a thing for elves! That was some easy gold I got from Varric, betting on Fenny here," Isabela said, winking at the elf.

"I'm not sure Arthur was half-elven. It's just a guess," Hawke said.

"Still, Jethann and Fenny on the same night! That is something!" the pirate replied.

Fenris started grumbling something in Arcanum while Hawke rolled her eyes, irritated. "I did not sleep with Jethann that night! Dammit, Isabela! Mind your own business!"

Anders snatched the bottle of rum, when he saw Hawke reaching for it yet again.

"Hey! Give it back!" She lost her balance as she made a motion to stand. Isabela tried to hold her as she fell and they both ended up on the floor. It would have been painful in they hadn't drank so much. The way their arms had flailed desperately, trying to hold on to something that wasn't there for purchase, made everyone burst into laughter. Fenris made an effort to hold back, but even he couldn't.

Since it didn't look like anyone was going to help the two women up, they helped themselves.

Hawke rubbed the spot her head had hit hardest on the floor. "Alright, maybe I had too much already. I think I'll go home."

"I'll walk you," Anders offered.

Hawke agreed with a smile and he put a hand on the small of her back to gently guide her down the stairs and, and given her drunkenness, hold her if needed.

All the remaining companions watched Fenris as Hawke left with the mage, curious to see how the elf would react. Varric gave him an approving nod when he just muttered a curse under his breath and downed his ale, but the others were probably disappointed that he didn't make a scene.

"It'll be like I told you, elf. Just be there for her when this falls apart," the dwarf said.

* * *

When Hawke put her foot down on the tavern's ground-floor, Sebastian came in through the front door with Cullen right behind him. The service at the Chantry must have ended already and the archer had decided to join them. Why he would think it would be okay to bring the templar along was beyond Hawke's understanding, though.

It was crowded down there. People were dancing, hugging each other, laughing, making out, passing drinks and the two men hadn't seen her and Anders yet. Instinctively, she grabbed the mage's arm. "I don't want to talk to him. I can't. I'm not ready. Fuck! He's coming over. There's no way this will end well. Anders, do something!"

"Like what?"

She looked around trying to find a way to blend in the crowd, but she was tall and was wearing armor. Anders was even taller and blond, not to mention the not at all discreet feather pauldrons on his shoulders. There was no blending in for them. "I don't know. Aren't you a fucking mage? Make me disappear!"

"Are you seriously asking me to cast a spell in front of everyone?" He shook his head. "There's no such magic, anyway."

Cullen made eye contact and started walking towards her. Immediately, she looked away, not noticing how his lips had curled into an amiable smile at the sight of her.

The way her body tensed and she clenched her fists worried Anders. By the look on her face, there really was no chance that encounter would end well. Making her disappear wasn't an option, but there was something he could do that would certainly prevent Cullen from talking to her…

Wrapping an arm around her waist and delving his other hand in her hair, he pulled her to him and kissed her. She stood stiffly in his arms, eyes wide open in surprise. Her mouth opened just the slightest to let out a startled gasp, but he took it as an invitation and his tongue darted out, confident, almost forceful as it sought entrance.

Before she noticed, she had already yielded to his passion. Her eyes snapped shut and her arms snaked around his neck. His hunger was met with a sudden eagerness from her end and the kiss became more demanding and desperate as their tongues wrestled, neither willing to relent. Maybe she was just too drunk to have any other reaction, but there was no denying she enjoyed being in his arms. Although she had never been in love with him, there had been lust from the start. She had fantasized about being with him many times, about being with a mage… If only he hadn't thrown her out of his bed that night, maybe they would have been together for years now…

At that thought she pushed him away, breaking the kiss.

Cullen was nowhere to be seen and neither was Sebastian. The kiss had worked to prevent her encounter with the templar, however she didn't even remember that was why Anders had kissed her in the first place.

"Stop. Let's not… I can't –"

"I'm sorry. It was just… Cullen was here… you said–"

"What? Oh!" She looked around, searching for the templar. "It worked, I guess."

In awkward silence they made their way Hightown. Hawke was embarrassed for having gotten so carried away during their supposedly fake kiss. It was obvious he had noticed her… enthusiastic response. To her defense, it didn't seem like he was acting just to throw Cullen off her. Not at all.

"Hawke, I… I've been meaning to ask you… does it bother you that I've been with… men?" the mage broke the stretched silence.

Relieved that he was not talking about the kiss, she relaxed a little and gave him a kind smile. "Why should it, Anders? We cannot choose who we fall in love with. Sometimes it can be with someone that is just like us."

He let out a contented sigh. "I believe the same thing."

They made the rest of the way in silence, but this time it was definitely comfortable. When they stopped at her door, he spoke, "You really are special, you know. I'm so lucky to have a… friend like you." The way he looked at her as he said these words made her sure there had been nothing fake about their kiss.

She wondered if she should tell him about her cellar and how it had an exit right next to the entrance to his clinic. It would be safer and quicker for him to get home, but inviting him in now might give him the wrong idea.

Before she could decide, he hugged her and gave her a peck on the forehead. "Good night, sweetheart, and happy First Day," he said.

She let him go. If she was ever to give them another chance, it was best to take things slow; after all, he had blown her off once already and it had been humiliating. She wouldn't risk letting him, or Justice, do that to her again.

* * *

Hawke was afraid she was going to lose her mind. It had been snowing nonstop for the past days and it had been impossible to get out of the house. She hadn't seen her friends since their First Day party and not even for a sovereign could you find a messenger in this weather. There was absolutely nothing to do and Garrus had been utterly impatient, chewing on the furniture and digging on the floorboards. At least Sandal was finally having the chance to properly enchant the rogue's equipment, since she hadn't been using it, and Bodahn and Orana were making themselves busy managing meals and food reserves and feeding the hearths to keep the estate warm.

Enduring Leandra's disappointed eyes all day long and the accusing tone in her voice every time they spoke hadn't been easy and Hawke was spending most of the time holed up in her wine cellar, drinking. She had taken up on Fenris' advice and gotten a table down there. After falling sleep a few times with her head on it, she had started considering putting a bed there too. Due to the nonsensical nature of that thought, she had realized she needed to sort things out with her mother. If she was feeling so much like an unwanted visitor in her own home, something was seriously wrong there.

Hawke knew what she had to do. Yet… she found herself putting on a heavy cloak and crossing the cellar until she was out on Darktown instead. She was not one to run away from her problems, but how was she supposed to convince her mother she was not to blame for what had happened to Bethany when she didn't even believe that herself?

She was brought back from her thoughts at the sight of the lantern outside Anders' clinic that, oddly, was out. Letting herself in, she noticed a shivering form curled under a pitiful, worn blanket on a makeshift bed on the far end of the room. It felt even colder in there than outside and, worried, she called the mage's name as she walked towards the bed.

Anders uncovered his head to take a peek at his visitor.

"Hi," she said softly, leaning in to tuck a strand of blond hair behind his ear. By the lengthening stubble on his face, he hadn't shaved for a few days. One could say he was looking even scruffier than usual, but she found he was actually sexier.

Making room for her to sit on the edge of his bed, he said in a sleepy tone, "You smell like wine."

She ignored his remark. "Why is it so cold in here? Can't you make it warmer?"

"I could, but it's exhausting to sustain this kind of spell and I'm drained."

"Where do you keep your lyrium potions? I'll get one for you."

"I ran out."

"Alright. Do you have any lyrium dust so you could make some?"

"Ran out too. It's hard to find supplies with this weather."

"You're shivering. How about another blanket, then?"

"I gave them all out. There are people dying from the cold here. I had to help."

Hawke made a mental note to bring him some money for supplies the next time she come see him. "You're too kind for your own good, Anders," she said.

He looked at her from head to toe. "You seem fine. Is anyone sick or hurt at your estate?"

"Do you think that's the only reason I have to come here?"

"Well… most of the times you  _visited_  you were actually bleeding to death on someone's arms."

She rolled her eyes and said sarcastically, "I'm sure that's an exaggeration."

His bare hand came out from under the blanket and closed around her gloved one. Even through the fabric she could feel his hand was cold. "It's good to know you have other reasons to come see me," he said with a sweet smile.

"I wanted to get out of the house and your clinic was the only place I could get to without freezing to death on the way," she replied.

He leered at her. "Is that so? How is here closer than anywhere else? Admit it, you wanted to see me."

Laughing, she held his chin between her thumb and forefinger. "Aren't you cute when you're full of yourself? It even makes me feel sorry for having to wipe this smug look off your face, but there's an entrance to my cellar right outside your door."

"There is not," he said defiantly.

"There is," she replied.

"Show me."

"My pleasure." She immediately got up and offered him her hand to help him up. Not that he needed it, but he took it anyway.

It surprised him that she didn't let go as she guided him outside his clinic and into her cellar.

"Maker's breath! Isabela and Varric don't know about this place, I imagine," he said.

Hawke chuckled. "Oh, no, they don't! Varric's been here once, but it was a mess and crawling with slavers."

"If they find out they have been paying for drinks all this time when you have this many bottles just lying here…"

She put her forefinger over her pursed lips. "Shhh! It'll be our secret!"

"No one else knows?"

"Uh… Fenris does…"

"Figures…" he muttered under his breath.

Hastily, Hawke changed the subject. "Why don't we grab a bottle and go drink at the clinic to warm up?"

"I don't think there's any amount of alcohol that could make that place warmer unless it is used to set it on fire," he joked. "Anyway, Justice doesn't let me get drunk anymore…"

Noticing the expectant look on her face was turning into a disappointed one as he spoke, he realized what that was all about. "But I'll have a drink with you. It looks like you could use some time away from here."

With a little smile, she whispered, "Thank you."

Hawke ran upstairs to grab a blanket and they went back to the clinic taking a bottle of brandy with them.

They pushed two makeshift beds together, sat down side by side with their backs against the wall, since there were no headboards, and put one blanket over the other, covering their legs with them.

Anders was doing most of the talking while Hawke was doing most of the drinking. At some point he told her about his manifest and how what had happened to Bethany had motivated him to write it. The rogue took a deep breath as she tried to pretend she could handle that subject, but he saw how upset she was by the way her hand tightened around her glass and her body tensed.

He took the glass from her and put it away. Cupping her face, he gently caressed her cheek. "We will find Ser Alrik and we will kill him. Your sister will be avenged," he said, looking deeply into her eyes to seal his promise.

' _We', he said. I guess I can really count on him_ , she thought. It felt good to know she had someone who was there for her, who hadn't forgotten what had been done to her sister and was willing to do anything if it would help make that shit at least a little better.

Closing her eyes, she leaned into his touch. He pulled her to him, enveloping her comfortably in his arms. Feeling more relaxed, she responded by putting her arms around his neck and her legs across his lap.

His clinic had never been this hot in the cold season, Anders was sure of it, and he was trying to figure out what to do next so he wouldn't ruin that moment.

She opened her eyes and moistened her lips, so dangerously close to his that he could feel her warm breath blowing softly against his mouth and rendering him unable of any coherent thoughts.

"I have to go," she said, disentangling herself from him before he could close the distance between their lips.

"Don't, Hawke. Please." He reached out for her and she stopped her retreat. Encouraged, he pulled her back to him. "Why would you leave? You want this too. I can see you do."

Well, she did. But… "Last time…"

He knew exactly what she was talking about. "Hawke, that was years ago."

"No one likes being rejected, Anders. It's not something a girl easily forgets."

"That was a mistake. I thought I was protecting you. I would never have done that to you otherwise," he said.

"Even though I knew about Justice, I had wanted to be with you. There had been no need to protect me. I knew what I was getting into. And it was not like I was proposing marriage anyway. I just wanted to feel… something, anything. It had been over a year since Arthur had died and I was… lonely."

"I'm so sorry, Hawke. I didn't know."

"If you were not going to sleep with me, you should at least have said it while I still had my clothes on. It would have been much less humiliating."

He dragged his fingers over his face. "I don't know what else I can say. I really am sorry, Hawke. For three years I've lain awake thinking about that night, about you."

Damn, that man could be dense. And romantic in his own… kind of creepy way too. She was probably not going to resist him much longer. "Good! We're even, then," she said with a wry smile.

He gave her a look that was half hopeful, half pleading. It was sweetly disarming and reminded her of a kitten asking for a petting.

She sighed tiredly. "I don't know, Anders. Maybe. As long as we take things slow this time. Just… let me sleep on it."

With that, she laid down on the bed by his side, snuggling under the covers and making herself comfortable. He watched her with an incredulous look on his face. Her eyes were already closed. She was going to sleep there, wasn't she? That was not because she was uncertain about him or too tired or had too much to drink. That was payback. She was doing it to tease him into madness. Deliberately.

Letting out an annoyed huff, he tucked himself under the covers by her side and hoped he'd be lucky enough to fall sleep quickly and get that torture over with.


	33. In Spite of All the Danger - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke and Anders finally start to sort things out between them. Magical smut.

Hawke woke up to find an empty space where Anders was supposed to be. She stretched lazily on the makeshift bed and rubbed her eyes. The sun was not out yet and the clinic was completely dark, but for a flickering light behind a screen on the far side of the room. Three people were talking in hushed whispers there. Hawke could see no more than their silhouettes – one of them was Anders and there other two were a man and a woman she didn't recognize.

The rogue got up quietly and blended in the shadows as she approached them. She didn't make a habit of using her stealth ability to spy on her friends, but a secret meeting in the middle of the night was just too suspicious for her to pass on. It surely didn't seem they were talking about a patient or some other mild, inoffensive subject, not when they were all muttering in the dark at a late hour.

"I'm sorry, Anders. We all want him dead. You can count on us," Hawke heard the unknown man say before he left.

The woman stayed behind. "Are you sure you're going to be okay?" she asked the healer, with a sweet voice and a Starkhaven accent.

"No, Tess. Not while he lives. He's a sadist. Cold-blooded as a lizard! Maker, like I needed more reason to want him dead…" he huffed, pacing and running his fingers through his hair.

_Tess_. Sounded like a nickname. Were they close? Hawke had her answer shortly after. Still hidden in the shadows she saw  _Tess_  take his hands in hers and speak softly, "Hey, calm down." The woman beckoned him to sit on one of the makeshift beds and sat down by his side, one hand still holding his and the other going up to brush a loose strand of hair off his face and… definitely lingering there. Even in the dark this woman looked very beautiful – young, long blond hair, milky white skin.

Suddenly, Hawke realized she was paying attention to their gestures and body language and the woman's features instead of what the two mages were talking about. Why she was doing that was beyond her comprehension. She wondered if for a moment there she had completely lost her mind. Chiding herself internally for her lack of focus, she tried to concentrate on their conversation.

"You can't do this by yourself," Tess continued. "It's too dangerous. If you give us more time, we can put together an operation to infiltrate the Gallows through the smugglers' tunnels and try to find this eviden–"

"No," he interrupted her. "We all have been watching. We all know there are new Tranquil every day, selling their bloody wares. I have to go tonight. Each day we wait, another mage might be turned. And don't worry. I won't go alone."

"You're taking that Fereldan with you, aren't you? Bethany's sister?"

There was a hint of scorn in the woman's tone and Hawke clenched her fists.

The mood changed in the clinic as Anders stood up abruptly. "Of course I will. Once Hawke hears this she won't want to wait either. She's our ally and deserves having her revenge."

"You trust her too much, Anders. You have to remember she's not one of us."

"No, but Bethany is. Hawke would never betray the mages. She would do anything for her sister."

"Anything indeed – even whore herself out to the Knight-Captain. How do you know she wasn't ratting on other apostates in exchange for her sister's safety?"

The nerve of that woman! Hawke wanted to jump her, not to kill her, but maybe just to give her a good scare… perhaps a beating too? However, for a second there it seemed Anders had made eye-contact with her. Did he know she was there? Impossible. She was using stealth and she was pretty goo…

THUD!

"What was that?" Tess asked.

"It seems like one of my patients needs me. You better leave," Anders told the Starkhaven mage.

"You have patients here? The lantern wasn't lit."

"It's … complicated. You don't want to know."

"About Haw–"

"You can stop right there, Tessalyn. You don't know her and what she's been through and you don't get to say another word about her. I mean it."

"Things are hard enough for the mage underground as they are, Anders. I hope your trust is not misplaced and you don't bring us any more trouble," the woman said and stormed out of the clinic.

Anders shook his head and walked over to where Hawke had fallen on the floor under the effect of the sleeping spell he had cast upon her. He carried her back to the bed and sat by her side before gently waking her up.

She looked around, confused, trying to make out what had happened. "What? Where? You! You made me sleep, didn't you?" Abruptly, she sat up on the bed. "Where's that Starkhaven bitch?"

"She's gone."

"Why didn't you let me talk to her?"

" _Talk_?"

"And maybe punch that pretty little arrogant face of hers," Hawke admitted.

"As much as I would enjoy seeing you two rolling on the ground trying to smack each other, Justice wouldn't approve. And I'm certain you wouldn't settle for just a punch. It wouldn't end well. She's very good with primal spells. She could hurt you," he said, reaching out to touch her hair, but Hawke pushed his hand away.

"Fuck you, Anders. I can take care of myself," the rogue said and turned her back to him, pouting.

"Hey, I'm sorry you heard her say those things. She's wrong, you know," he reassured her.

Hawke turned back to him. "How did you know I was there?"

"I've fought along and against rogues enough times to learn all your moves. Subterfuges are for enemies, Hawke. It hurts me that you would use a trick like that on me." Now he was the one pouting.

"You've put me to sleep!"

"Only because you were spying on me! You started it!"

"Good thing I did or I would never know that even though I risk myself to help these damned apostates every chance I get they still don't trust me and think I'm the Knight-Captain's who–"

"No, please, don't say that. I'd be a happy man if I didn't hear anyone say that about you ever again. You've done a lot for the mages in this town, Hawke. You're always sticking your neck out for us. For all of us, not just your sister. Tessalyn is wrong. She doesn't –"

"Tessalyn?" she interrupted him. "Really? Of course that bitch would have a fancy, unique name to go with her perfect skin and shiny blond hair. I bet her eyes are blue or green or perhaps one of each."

He stared at her, looking both surprised and amused. "Are you jealous?"

She was. Damn! Why did seeing a pretty young woman holding hands with Anders annoy her so much?

"N-No! I-I… No! Of course not!" she stuttered and then looked away, embarrassed.

His lips curled into an adorable, silly smile and he leaned forward, getting so close to her that she could feel his breath warm against her skin as he said, "Admit it, Hawke, you are jealous."

"No. I just want to know what she was talking about," she said, hastily changing the subject. Trying to regain her composure, she leaned back, putting some distance between them. "So, what is this thing that you can't do by yourself and need my help with?" she said, attempting to provoke him.

"It's not about that. You'd never sit this one out and I'd rather do this with you anyway. Ser Alrik…"

Hawke's eyes widened. "Tell me already!"

"Tessalyn and Julian, they're from the mage underground. They just brought me important information on Ser Alrik. He was the one who did the ritual on Karl and he plans on doing it to every mage in Kirkwall within the next three years. He calls it the 'Tranquil Solution'. We need to stop him, Hawke. Now more than ever. It has to be done –"

"– tonight!" The thought of her sweet little sister losing her emotions, her feelings, her dreams… Bethany had so much taken from her already, Hawke would die before letting a templar turn her Tranquil.

Anders gave Hawke all the information the mage underground had gathered on Ser Alrik and told her about the secret entrance to the Gallows Dungeon in Darktown, which had been built by lyrium smugglers. It was also a way mages used to escape the Circle. From there and if they were lucky, Hawke and Anders could get just about anywhere in the Gallows.

"So, should we call Varric? Perhaps Isabela too?" he asked.

"No. It's too dangerous. We're not calling anyone. I'm going alone," she stated.

"Are you insane? You're going to get yourself killed!"

"You're an apostate! I'm not taking you to the Gallows! What if they catch you?"

"I want to see that blasted templar dead as much as you. We have a better chance if we go together."

"Alrik is mine, Anders. I'm going alone," she said, getting up on her feet and turning to leave.

Suddenly, she was stuck in place. Glyph of paralysis. Magic was so unfair…

"You either take me with you or you won't go at all," he said as he went over to face her. "We both want revenge on Ser Alrik and just like you I'm willing to give my life for it. Together we have a better chance and that's what matters most. I'll do whatever it takes to keep you alive and safe until you can stop him and get out of there. We're in this together, Hawke."

Something changed in her eyes and he couldn't tell if she had agreed with him or what. The glyph was fading and he let it end, hoping for the best. Once she regained her movement, she strode purposefully towards him and kissed him. Those oddly romantic speeches of his had a way of getting under her skin.

Her kiss was fierce and raw and for a couple of seconds he didn't respond, just enjoyed the feeling of her wanting him, surrendering to him and ending that teasing that was driving him mad. Then, unable to resist her, he crushed her against him, kissing her back, nipping at her lower lip, running his hands over her sides.

"We go together," she said, melting into him.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," he replied.

His hands snaked under her clothes, wanting to touch her, to feel her soft, warm skin. She trembled when his fingers grazed over her stomach and then slid up to her ribs. Still kissing, she led him back towards the two makeshift beds pushed together that made for  _their_  bed. He sat down and she came over to straddle him.

Warmth surrounded them. Magic was so wonderful…

Hawke threw her head back, baring her throat for him to kiss and suck and nibble at the sensitive, creamy skin as he removed her coat and then her tunic and breastband.

"Do that electricity thing," she whispered in his ear.

To think that three years later she still hadn't forgotten about that made him smile widely. The tiniest sparkle of electricity crept on his hands and he kneaded her breasts, making her arch her back into his touch and groan wantonly.

He made a trail of open-mouthed kisses from her neck to her collarbone and when she ground herself shamelessly against his erection, he lost it. For three years he had waited for another chance with her and now he had it. She was here and she wanted him as much as he wanted her. This was really happening and this time nothing was going to get on their way. Not even Justice.

Wrapping his arms around her, he deftly spun them around and laid her down on her back on the bed. It took him no more than a couple of seconds to get rid of his clothes and the remainder of hers and then he was kissing her again.

Electricity was still sparkling on his fingertips when his hand went down to her womanly core. She shuddered in anticipation, but he ceased the magic as his palm rubbed against her folds. One finger slid inside her to find her incredibly wet and warm.

Oh, Maker, he would take his time later. Right now he just needed to be inside her, to fuck her. He had waited for this for too long.

Spreading her legs further apart, he positioned himself between her thighs and entered her with one hard, determinate thrust.

She let out a startled yelp at the sudden intrusion and then shifting to adjust to him she teased him, "Aren't you eager!"

"Three years, Hawke." It was all he managed to mumble as he began moving back and forth inside her. Her tight channel twitching around him was too much to bear and he knew he wouldn't last as long as he would like to.

Her legs closed around him, drawing him even deeper inside her. "Harder," she said as she untied his hair so she could entwine her fingers in it.

His response was his breath catching in his throat and he pushed her legs up to his shoulders, hammering her with all his strength. His cock was hitting her cervix with his every thrust and she was twisting the bedcovers around her fingers as his name fell from her lips over and over again.

Already he wanted to come, but he wouldn't without her coming with him, so he grabbed her wrists, locking them above her head with a glyph of paralysis, and let her legs down.

He braced himself in one arm while his free hand went down to the place where their bodies were joined. "Draw your legs up and bend your knees," he said, still pounding into her, only a little slower now.

She hesitated. That position alone made her feel too… exposed. Even more like this – with her arms stretched up and bound over her head.

The healer lowered his head until his lips were a mere inch from touching hers. When she made a move to close the distance between them, he pulled back. "Do it," he said, his voice low and demanding.

So help her, she did.

"Good girl," he said with a smug smile on his face.

"I'll kill you, mage!" she replied in mocking outrage.

"We'll see about that after I make you come like you've never had in your life," he replied and before she could argue, he began skillfully stroking her clit with his thumb, effectively keeping her from formulating any coherent sentences.

He let a tiny jolt of electricity escape his finger and it was enough to send her tumbling over the edge. It wasn't easy to resist the feeling of her velvety walls clenching around him and her body writhing beneath him as she climaxed, but he managed and sent another spark through her nub, making her peak last longer. And then he sent another. It was pure bliss. Infinite ecstasy.

She just rode the waves of blinding pleasure he was sending through her body, unable to tell if it was one unending orgasm or multiple ones. All she could do was scream, "Oh, Anders, yes!"

Another spark and she was crying pleas to the Maker. Sex with a possessed apostate had restored her faith. That was a good one. She had to remember to tell Sebastian about that.

Another spark and all words and thoughts were gone. With all the strength left in her convulsing body, she clamped her legs around him, gasping for breath and arching her back desperately, almost painfully into him.

And then he was grabbing a fistful of her hair with one hand and the other was around her, holding her in place as his thrusts became more forceful. Biting down the spot where her neck met her shoulder hard enough to mark her, he finally came.

She felt his cock pulsing inside her as he filled her with endless jolts of his hot, thick seed and yet another wave of pleasure rippled through her body. When it was over, he collapsed over her, burying his face in the crook of her neck. Her legs slumped back on the bed and she lowered her arms, now free from the glyph of paralysis. She wanted to hold him, but she was exhausted, still trembling with the aftershocks of her orgasms. There was no energy left in her to do anything but breathe.

Minutes later, still sheathed inside her he embraced her and rolled them over so she would be on top of him.

"Aren't you going to pull out?" she asked him.

"No," he said simply.

Smiling, she made herself comfortable over him and let out a sated, happy sigh.

It didn't take much longer until he was hardening again. Lifting her head, she looked at him with her eyebrows raised. "Magic?"

He shook his head. "Grey Warden."

Right! How could she have forgotten about that? The famed Warden's stamina was not a myth. She had already had the pleasure to test it before.

Magic flowed around them as he pulled her into a kiss and she felt… incredible!

"What did you do?"

"Heal, rejuvenate and heroic aura."

"Whoa! Do you think I can't handle you?"

The mischievous look on her face aroused him all the more, if that was even possible. "I just want to make sure you have no reason to get away from me. So many nights I've spent alone, imagining this moment, Hawke… I might get caught tonight. We may even die. I want to enjoy you while I can."

Very slowly, she sat up, feeling every inch of him as she took him to the hilt into her.

He gasped as her nails scored the hard muscles of his chest and she began rolling her hips. For a while he let her move on her own pace, watching entranced as her breasts bounced before him.

Sitting up, he blew a thin layer of ice over her pointed nipples. The heat of her skin began to melt it instantly and he took one pink nub in his mouth and then the other, sucking them hungrily and eliciting deliciously tormented groans from her. With both his hands he cupped her ass. That enticing tingling feeling started again as faint sparks of electricity erupted from his fingers.

His stubble was grazing the sensitive skin of her breasts as he suckled and nipped at them and she threw her head back, closing her eyes and rejoicing in his magical ministrations. His arms around her were now lending force to her up and down movements and setting a more demanding pace. It wasn't enough. He wanted it harder, faster, deeper. All of a sudden, he pulled out and flipped her over, kneeling behind her.

On all fours, she turned her head to look at him over her shoulder. Her lips curled into a devilish smile and she purred, "Fuck me, Anders."

Maker help him, he did. There was no more electricity when he grasped her hips. It wasn't needed. The strength of his hands alone, his palms rough from handling staves for years, was enough to make her gasp and squirm.

The dragon eyeing him menacingly on her back only made him want to fuck her harder. The whimpers he drew from her with his punishing pace were maddening and before pleasure overwhelmed him, he reached underneath her and rubbed her swollen clit until she was screaming her release, her sheath tightening even more around him, milking him. There was no magic this time, since he was too far gone to be able to control it.

With a low, guttural groan, he followed her, his cock throbbing as he pumped his seed deep within her.

He pulled her with him as he lay on his back on their makeshift bed and she nuzzled into his sweat-slicked chest. They stayed like that for a while, enjoying that wonderful feeling of being totally spent, but totally replete at the same time.

"Have I ever told you that I find tattoos on women incredibly attractive?" he said after a few minutes of quiet as he lazily caressed her back.

"You do? How do you like mine?" she asked, gently running her fingers through his chest hair.

"I find it sexy. It makes me want to have you from behind," he said with a wicked smile and reached out a hand to squeeze her ass. "Many cultures consider the dragon a symbol of defiance and chaos, you know?"

"Then I guess it fits me perfectly, don't you think?" she replied, teasingly grinding her body against him.

"I guess it does," he said, drawing her in for a kiss.


	34. In Spite of All the Danger - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Dissent_ with an extra portion of revenge on the side. Warning for violence.

Hawke went home to get ready for the quest that could be her last one. At nightfall she met with Anders and they headed to the hidden entrance to the Gallows in Darktown.

Before they got in, he turned to her. "Hawke, about us…"

"If we survive this, we'll figure it out."

"Alright. Are you ready?"

She took a deep breath. "Yes. Let's get that son of a bitch."

They advanced quickly in the tunnels, cutting and burning their way through smugglers and giant spiders. There was no sign of templars until they heard a girl scream and followed the noise to find her being threatened by the very templar they had gone there to kill.

Hawke had never seen Ser Alrik before, but the minute she laid eyes on that man she knew it in her guts it was him. There were templars everywhere in that room and they quickly surrounded them, probably noticing Anders was a mage. Each on their own way, both Anders and Hawke had vengeance take control over them.

Templar after templar tried and failed to silence Anders and were being mercilessly annihilated by his spells, which were more powerful than ever. Meanwhile Hawke was blind to everything else but her target. With a roar she engaged Ser Alrik in face-to-face combat. If not for her daggers and light armor one could think she was a berserker and not a shadow rogue.

Alrik was an older man, but he was still in shape. He was a good warrior and definitely not a fool. Assuming a defensive stance, he let her come at him with all her might. She was faster and he knew that if he countered and missed he would give her the opening she needed to land a killing blow. Thus he was fending off her advances using his sword and shield, waiting for her to get tired and frustrated and make a mistake so he would have a better chance to best her when he took the offensive.

His strategy proved to be right. Panting, soaked in sweat, she kept dueling him and he could see the frustration rising in her rage-filled eyes. With each failed attack she was becoming more daring and less cautious until she let her chest completely open, placing all her bets in yet another offense. With a swift move of his sword, he blocked her blow and hit her in the chest with his shield, sending her to the ground on her back. The strength of the impact knocked the wind out of her lungs and made her drop her weapons. Next, he hit her with a staggering smite, stunning her.

"You are the one who murdered Ser Karras, aren't you? Sister to that mage girl Knight-Captain Cullen protects?" he said as he walked over to stand by her side, looking down on her. "I had a wonderful time disciplining her. It's a shame he never let me anywhere near her again. I heard you pay him with your body to keep her safe from harm. More harm, that is," he snickered and looked at her from head to toe. "I wonder how often he collects his payment. Do you think he'll miss his little whore once I'm done with you?"

Hawke knew she had to move, to do something, but her head was heavy, she was feeling dizzy and her body was refusing to respond.

"Once my Tranquil Solution is approved, I will need no more justification to brand a mage. Your sister will be the first one turned under the new law, I will see to it personally. Her ritual will mark the beginning of a new era for the Templar Order," he continued.

All that was missing was a maniacal laugh, really. That man was beyond vile and there was nothing Hawke wanted more than to kill him.

Ser Alrik dropped his shield and raised his sword with both his hands, preparing to drive it into her chest.

She tried to scramble to her feet, her strength returning slowly to her. She would not die there. Not without taking that templar with her, at least. If only he'd made a longer speech…

Suddenly a blast knocked Alrik over, making him lose grasp of his sword. Immediately, the templar got back on his feet, though, and did what the other templars there couldn't – silenced Anders. However, Hawke was up now. She spared a glance at the healer, who was downing a lyrium draught. It wasn't really him, but Justice controlling his body and his magic. That damned spirit was very powerful and would recover fast. Or at least she hoped he would. If he needed her now, when Ser Alrik had just lost his advantage and she had the chance to kill him, she wasn't sure if her mind was clear enough to make the right choice and help her friend first.

Without even bothering to recover her blades on the ground, the rogue lunged at the templar. She punched him in the face and sent him staggering backwards. Before he could get a hold of himself, she landed another punch, making him hit the back of his head against the wall.

With the third hit, blood began gushing from his nose. The forth punch sent him to the ground. Straddling his chest, she kept hitting him in the face. Her fist was hurting badly and her knuckles were raw, but that didn't stop her.

In the frenzy of her revenge she didn't notice him retrieving a knife from somewhere in his armor. Even dizzy and weakened from his beating he managed to bury it in her left thigh. With a scream that was more angry than pained, she yanked the blade out of her, but instead of using it to finish him, she drove it through his palm and into the dirt, pinning his right hand to the ground. His left arm was flailing desperately, trying to push her from him without success. Another punch and the pain was too great for her to continue. She must have broken some bones in her right hand while beating his face into a bloodied pulp. It was time to end it.

Oh, how she had longed for this moment. Way too many sleepless nights she had spent obsessing over it and now she was finally going to do it. She was going to end that depraved man who had tortured and abused her sweet little sister, ruining her life and Hawke and Leandra's as well.

Hawke held his head between her hands, raising it from the ground and twisted it with a fierce and determinate movement, instantly breaking his neck. As she let his head fall limp on the dirt, tears welled up in her eyes. That evil man was gone. For good.

Breathing heavily, she got up and turned around to see that Anders had lost what little control he had over his extra passenger. After having killed all the enemies, he was turning on the frightened Circle mage they had just saved from Alrik.

"Get a hold of yourself, Anders! You're out of control!" she cried out as she limped towards the healer as fast as she could, but he was paying her no heed.

He murdered the girl and when he realized what he had done, he fled the tunnels without even looking in Hawke's direction.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" she swore loudly. Blood was gushing from the wound on her thigh, she couldn't run, she couldn't fight well with her right hand in that state... If someone else showed up there she would be done for.

Leaning against the wall for support, she drank a health potion and retrieved an injury kit from her pouch. She bandaged the stab wound to the best of her ability, given the poor state of her right hand, and hoped it would stem the bleeding until she could get out of there and find help.

At the sound of steps and the clink of armor she went into stealth.

* * *

The minute he entered the tunnels, Cullen noticed a fading scent of magic. Ser Alrik had gone down there with a group of templars to get a fresh supply of lyrium dust from smugglers, but it was taking much longer than usual. The Knight-Captain was getting anxious, since he had ran out of the stuff a few hours ago and decided to go after Alrik's group to see what the delay was about.

Something was definitely wrong there and he unsheathed his sword. Droplets of blood appeared on the ground as if coming from nowhere, making a trail to the closest shadowy corner. No doubt it was a rogue trying to ambush him. Cullen looked to the other side and pretended to be distracted until he got in the perfect position to strike the foe. With a sudden move, he turned, thrusting his sword forward. He expected to catch the man off guard and hit him in the chest. Instead his blade got caught between Hawke's crossed daggers.

* * *

Hawke had no strength left in her hands to hold that position, so she deftly twisted her blades, disarming him. As his sword was falling off his hand, he instinctively raised his shield. Before he could bash her with it, she ducked and swept him off his feet with a swift movement of her good leg. She jumped over him as he hit the ground and halted with one of her daggers at his throat. His eyes, wide and terrified, found her angry and tired ones.

He was thinking she was going to kill him.

She was thinking about killing him.

Blinking a few times as realization hit her, she dropped her weapons and rolled off him to lay on her back by his side.

"I'm sorry," she said, panting. "I didn't mean… I wouldn't… Not you. I couldn't…"

"For a moment there I thought… Maker, you looked like you were going to…" He let out a relieved sigh. "Thank you."

There were a few moments of silence, while they let all that had just happened sink in. Then, Cullen got up and offered Hawke a hand.

"Thank you, but I need to just sit here for a while," she said.

"You are hurt, aren't you? It was the blood that gave you away, you know? Let me see it."

She really had no better option, so she agreed and he knelt by her side.

Removing the bandage he found the bloodied mess that was her wound. Embarrassed, he looked at her and said, "You'll need to… remove your breeches so I can tend to it properly."

Hawke rolled her eyes, wondering if that situation could get any weirder. Unfortunately, it could and most certainly would.

"I don't think I can." She showed him her hand, bruised and swollen, with a couple of limp fingers. "Would you…?"

"Can't move your fingers?"

She shook her head.

"If this happened because you were punching someone," he gave her a knowing look before continuing, "It's the bones in your hand that are broken, not your fingers. It must be hurting like mad. I wonder how you managed to hold your daggers…"

"It was either that or…"

"I didn't know it was you or I would ne–"

"Forget about it. Bleeding wound here," she reminded him, pointing at her left thigh.

They avoided looking at each other as he carefully took her boots and breeches off, both pretending they weren't completely uncomfortable with that whole situation. Luckily, in her Last Descent armor set she didn't look too naked, even without breeches – not more than Isabela in her regular outfit at least.

"So you finally had your revenge…" he said conversationally as he fussed over her injury.

"I did. How did you know?"

"I know Ser Alrik was down here with some other templars. If I go into the next room, I'll find all their bodies, won't I? "

She gave him a defiant look. "Are you going to arrest me again? There are no witnesses –"

"Because you killed them all."

"But you."

"Is that a threat?"

The air became heavy again. She just stared at him, lips pressed into a thin line.

"Ser Alrik was a bad man, but there were good kids with him down here and you killed them." If his accusatory tone was any indication, things were going downhill fast.

"These templars were following Alrik and his insane plans for a 'Tranquil Solution'!" Were they really? There was no way of knowing now…

He was done with her wound and, upset, he tied the bandage roughly around her thigh, making her wince.

"Ouch!" she complained, but he ignored her, leaving to check out her mess in the next room.

With some difficulty, she got up and went after him. He seemed a little shocked seeing all those bodies. Apparently he didn't know there were that many templars down there.

Hawke went past him and began searching Ser Alrik's body.

"What are you doing?" he asked, horrified that she was looting the dead templar's corpse.

"Your Ser Alrik was working on a plan to turn all mages Tranquil." She ran her eyes through some papers she found in his pocket. They were exactly what she was looking for and she handed them over to Cullen.

He knew what those were – detailed plans to the implementation of the Tranquil Solution. He had read them before. "The truth is there has been some discussion of the idea, but it has gone no further than that. The Harrowing has served us well enough for centuries. It will be up to mages themselves whether they push us to more stringent measures."

His nonchalant way to talk about that subject made her see red. "It sounds like you support this!"

"The Tranquil ritual was created as a mercy, so mages need not be killed out of hand for a threat they might pose. There is an argument to be made for applying it more widely."

"You're no better than Ser Alrik!" she snapped.

"Do you think it's easy to contain a mage who truly wants to deal with demons?" he retorted.

Hawke wanted to scream, so angry was she. If she could, she would have punched him. It was best to leave that place soon or things wouldn't end well.

She tried to put her breeches back on, but they were skintight and getting them up with only one hand was proving to be impossible, especially in all her haste and anger. It was freezing outside, but at this point she would rather go out naked than ask Cullen for help. Unless…

He was busy identifying the bodies and gave her a nasty look when he saw her stripping one of the templars off his skirt.

"What? Do you want me go out without pants?" she barked.

He would have said something, but Ella's body caught his attention. "This girl… she was one of the Circle mages. Why was she here? Who killed her?"

Hawke looked down. That shouldn't have happened. "She was trying to escape and got caught in the fight," she said. It was the best answer she could think of.

"Work of your apostate lover?"

"No!" Anders was still a good man, she was sure of it. Even though he had made that terrible mistake, she wasn't going to turn him over to the templars to be made Tranquil. "And he's not my lover," she remembered to add.

"The last time I saw him he had his tongue inside your mouth."

"What is it that you want, Cullen?" she asked, frustrated and impatient.

"This is not a wound inflicted by sword. It's from a staff. All these templars were killed either by magic or staff. Where is he now? He fled and let you to take the fall for him, didn't he?"

"I don't know what happened. I came here alone."

"Don't lie to me! I know Anders was here with you and I'm not surprised he's gone and left you behind. Fleeing is what he's best at."

"Fuck you, Cullen!"

He grabbed her arms and shoved her forcefully against the wall. "I loved you, Marian. I was going to ask you to marry me. I even bought you a ring. But you had to go and murder Ser Karras right in the middle of the templars' quarters. And now this! What am I supposed to do? I can't arrest you again. It destroyed me to do that the first time. Seeing you in that state because of me…" he trailed off, looking down.

She growled and pushed him with all her strength, causing him to stumble backwards.

"Don't try making me feel sorry for you. You let them have Bethany and you hid what they did to her from me. You betrayed me. I should kill you too," she snarled, her left hand holding a dagger pointed at his face.

"But you won't," he said, looking deep into her eyes. "It's over. You had your revenge. Leave now before us both do things we will regret later."

He was right. She knew he was.

Lowering her dagger, she gestured to the dead bodies around them. "What about this?"

Sighing sadly, he dragged his hands over his face and said, "Despite what you may think, I still care about you, Marian. Leave. I'll handle this."

With a long blink and a deep breath, she turned on her heels and they went their separate ways.

* * *

Hawke left the tunnels and went straight to the clinic to find Anders packing his meager belongings in haste. If only that mess were really over…

"Are you leaving?" she asked.

He stopped what he was doing but did not turn to look at her. "Yes," he said simply.

"Why?"

"Did you not see what I did? I murdered that girl! A mage! The very people I dedica–" Suddenly, he halted. He had just turned to face her and now he seemed… shocked. "Why are you wearing that?"

"What?" Following his gaze her eyes fell upon her legs. "Oh, this? Couldn't put my breeches back on."

"Why did you take them off in the first place?"

Lifting her templar skirt and bunching it around her waist, she showed him her injured thigh.

He noticed she used only her left hand to perform that action. "Nice bandaging. Tight. Very good work for someone with a broken hand."

"I didn't do it."

"No? Who then?"

"Just heal me," she said, tiredly.

"I… I can't. Justice and I… it's unnatural. It's twisted us both into something… monstrous. How can I even trust myself to heal anymore? What if that… creature of vengeance turns on a patient? What if it turns on you?"

"So you're just going to give up? We got rid of Ser Alrik. Meredith will look downright reasonable in comparison. She had even rejected his Tranquil Solution."

"How do you know?"

"I found some papers on Alrik's body."

"Can I see them?"

"I gave them to Cullen."

"Cullen? He was there? Your wound, was he the one who…?"

She nodded.

Looking upset, he ran his fingers through his hair. "I can't believe this. He helped you, even though we killed all those templars, while I…"

"While you abandoned me," she said matter-of-factly. "Just like Fenris did in those damned Holding Caves. You may despise each other, but you couldn't be any more alike, you know."

"Hawke, I'm so sorry. Oh, Maker! What if someone else had gotten down there? You could've been arrested, even killed. How could I be so selfish? I really am a monster."

"There's one thing you can do to make this up to me."

"Is there? I'll do anything."

"Heal me. I'm in pain," she pouted.

"I shouldn't. It's not safe."

"I trust you, Anders. You wouldn't hurt me," she told him, trying to reassure him as well as herself.

"You saw what I did to that girl. You've seen –"

"Dammit, mage! Stop that!" she yelled at him and immediately regretted it. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she said, "I'm sorry. It's the pain talking. I'll go see Merrill. Maybe she can do something about my hand. And leg."

Watching her limp towards the exit made him feel awfully bad. He couldn't let her go out like that. "Hawke, wait. Lie down here. I'll… take a look."

With a relieved sigh she lay on the makeshift bed they had shared earlier. She was so tired and in so much pain she doubted she would get to her cellar door without passing out, let alone get to Merrill's.

He sat down by her side and put one hand over her broken one and the other over her left thigh. When healing magic began flowing through her body and taking the pain away, she felt so warm and comfortable she closed her eyes and long before he was done, she was asleep.

The noise of the bed by hers being dragged away woke her up and she looked at Anders with heavy-lidded eyes. "Don't," she mumbled.

"I thought you would prefer if I–"

"I don't."

His lips curled into a small smile and he pushed the bed back together with hers. As he lay down, she cuddled on his side. He hesitated for a second, but then he put an arm around her.

"I didn't think you would forgive me," he said.

"I have nothing to forgive you for. You have to forgive yourself and make up for what you did."

"How?"

"Do not give up. You can't let the templars win. You have to keep fighting for the mages here."

"Will you still have me, fighting at your side?"

"Of course. I wouldn't last one day in Kirkwall without a healer."

He pulled her even closer and kissed her hair. She was already back asleep when he whispered, "I love you, Marian."


	35. You'll Be Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke spends time with Sebastian. Anders is jealous.   
> Warning for a very mature sex scene after the last line break.

When Anders woke up in the morning, Hawke was still in his arms. She yawned as she began stretching her arms lazily, her eyelids fluttering open. As she noticed him looking at her, she gave him a sleepy smile. "Morning," she mumbled.

Maker, if this wasn't happiness, he didn't know what was. He wished they could stay like that forever, though there was a part of him – a part he was desperately trying to ignore – that wasn't in any way happy with all this distraction.

He looked at Hawke, who was staring pensively at him, and wondered if he should tell her about Justice's disapproval of their… relationship? Could he call it that? They still had to talk about it.

"I didn't know you could do magic with your mouth," she spoke first, remembering fondly of their lovemaking the night before. Having sex with a mage was even better than she had imagined.

"Only weak spells. It's very tricky and it takes a lot of time to properly learn how to do it. Most mages don't think it's worth the trouble."

"I think it was totally worth your trouble," she purred, rolling over to straddle him.

A mischievous smile spread across his face. "Are you sure? Maybe we should get rid of this horrible skirt you're wearing and test it again," he said.

"We'd better. And then you'll have to lend me some pants. Mother will have a heart-attack if I get home dressed as a templar," she smiled back at him and he couldn't resist capturing her luscious mouth with his.

* * *

The clinic had been closed for the past two days and although Anders knew there were people out there in need of a healer, he still stayed in bed with Hawke until lunchtime. When she saw the little crowd that was forming outside his door, she decided to stay and help. There wasn't much else she could do anywhere in that horrible Wintermarch weather anyway.

It was supposed to be just for one day, but without realizing it, a whole month had gone by and she had fallen surprisingly naturally into a very domestic routine with Anders. They were making all meals together, working together all day and then… she would go to sleep at her estate alone or spend the night with him, but in his clinic, on those precarious makeshift beds pushed together.

That was bothering him to no end. Only once they had had sex on her bed and then he had told her that they should live together, but she had changed the subject saying she was hungry and offering him a sandwich.

His place was more a public clinic than an actual home. There was no bathtub, no comfort, no privacy and no safety. It wasn't even warmer in there than it was out on the street. He needed a better place to live, a safer one, and Hawke and he were practically living together already. Why wouldn't she make it official then?

He planned to confront her but she showed up at his clinic that day with Sebastian, Aveline and Garrus in tow. Apparently, it hadn't snowed for a couple of days and she thought it was good enough weather to go out on some crazy quest.

* * *

After spending the whole day helping the prince solve the mystery behind his family's murder, fighting demons and countless undead at the Harimanns' haunted mansion, Anders thought he would finally go home to rest with Hawke, but no. She insisted on accompanying Sebastian back to the Chantry. Though she had told Anders he could go on without her, he decided to wait for her there by the door anyway.

Hawke and the archer had been talking for nearly twenty minutes now. Anders couldn't hear them but could see them chatting by the altar, fussing over an old bow Hawke had found earlier. Every now and then the prince would shoot the mage a sideways glance. Feeling tired and utterly annoyed by their behavior Anders finally gave up and left alone.

As he made his way to Darktown he wondered why Hawke hadn't told anyone about them yet. When she was dating Cullen, for a long time she had hidden their relationship from her friends, but Anders could see why she would do it then – Cullen was the very templar that had locked her sister up in the Gallows. How… odd it was that she would take him as her lover?

Of course Anders knew he wasn't exactly the best suitor for her. He could never give her a normal life. They would always be on the run. And what Revered Mother in her right mind would allow an apostate to get married? Plus, he was a Grey Warden, so there wasn't much of a chance he would ever give her a child, either. Still, Hawke knew all that and she was with him despite of it, so why hadn't she told anyone about them? He didn't want the whole city to know – it was best if they didn't, really – but at least their friends and that mongrel of an elf who was always yelling at her for nothing should be told.

Anders wanted to talk to her about all those issues, but she didn't show up at the clinic that night or the next day. Feeling a little hurt and upset, he decided to go find her at her estate in the evening.

* * *

After they left the Harimanns', Sebastian was so grateful for Hawke's help with the matter of his family's murder that he didn't even mind her saying for the thousandth time that he had to take Starkhaven back. He even asked her to meet him at the Chantry the next morning so they could test his grandfather's bow.

When she got there, he was already waiting for her and invited her to his room. She snorted and rolled her eyes at the sight of him double checking his hand-made wooden doorstop to make sure it was firmly securing the door wide open while she was in there with him.

His room was simple, with a wardrobe, a chest, a chair, a nightstand and a bed that looked way too small for him to sleep comfortably on it. He pointed her to the chair while he sat on his bed to polish his grandfather's bow and replace its string with a new one.

Hawke took off the heavy bearskin cloak she was wearing over her clothes and tossed it on the chair, sitting by Sebastian's side on the bed. He was going to tell her she was supposed to  _sit_  on the chair, but gave up when he saw how absent-minded she looked watching him work on the bow. Maybe it had been an honest mistake.

"Does Elthina know I'm here?" she asked.

"I don't think so. Why?"

"She wasn't very happy to see me yesterday."

"That's because she thinks you are 'goading me into further heroics'."

"Yes, I heard her. I was there. What do  _you_  think?"

"I've been praying for guidance and had nothing. I cannot return to Starkhaven and subject my people to war without a clear sign that it's the Maker's will"

"I can't believe you would turn your back on Starkhaven after all we've done. It's your people and your land you're abandoning in the hands of conspirators."

He raked his fingers through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck, taking a moment to consider her point. Without a word, he turned his attention back to his work with his grandfather's longbow.

"It matches your armor," she said after a while.

"What?"

"This bow. The instant I lay my eyes on it I knew it belonged in your family. You should use it when you march to retake your lands. It'll be very… symbolical."

He ran a hand on the length of the bow reverently. "Yes. This will be a fitting weapon to carry against the usurpers."

A small smile passed quickly over her lips. It was nice to see he was entertaining the idea of taking back Starkhaven. He would do much more good as a prince than as a brother in the Chantry, she was sure of it.

When he was done with the bow they went to the orchard in the back of the Chantry, where he had set a target for them to practice. But for a dozen naked trees, during the cold season the orchard was an empty field, which made for a spacious training ground.

"My mother always said the Amells were the best family in Kirkwall," the prince said as he readied a shot.

"Really?"

"Yes. I'm surprised you never took the Amell name. Once the Viscount accepted you as your grandparents' heir, you could have been Lady Amell." He fired the shot, hitting the center of the target and passed her the bow.

"I wanted to teach people to respect the name Hawke, but that isn't going too well." As if to emphasize her point, her shot missed the target completely.

"I see," he said simply.

"Hey, give me another arrow. There was something off with that one," she said playfully, knowing it was a lame excuse.

"Of course," he replied, playing along.

She shot again. Another miss.

"I hope you're not counting on your skills with a bow to make the name Hawke respected," he teased.

"So I'm not very good at it, but it's because I haven't used a bow in years. Just let me fire a few mo–"

He snatched the bow from her and took a shot. Bull's-eye. "You're not  _very good_? You're terrible!"

"You know what I'm good at, Choir-Boy? Wiping superior looks off men's faces," she retorted.

"Let's see you try, then." He handed her the bow and crossed his arms over his chest.

This time the arrow fell closer to the target, but it was a miss nevertheless.

Sebastian was trying to hold back his laughter and she gave him the stink eye. She would wipe that superior smile off his face, oh she would, just not with that damned bow.

It was his turn and he hit bull's eye again, crowding the center of the target, so they went over there to retrieve the arrows.

At the same time he reached for the last one, she did too and their hands touched, hers covering his.

"Oh," she gasped innocently.

He instantly blushed from his neck to the tip of his ears and she had to struggle not to burst into laughter.

Noticing the reaction she was having he quickly pulled his hand back. "You did that on purpose!" he accused her.

"I did not," she replied in mocked outrage.

"Hawke!"

Unable to hold back, she chortled loudly. "Fine. I did. It's just that…"

"I'm cute when I'm blushing?" he finished for her, impatiently.

"Well… yes. And the superior look is gone. Two birds with one stone, or should I say with one arrow?" she provoked him.

"Stop. This is not funny."

"I beg to differ."

"I will make you blush and then we will see if you still think it's funny."

Now it was her turn to challenge him. "I'd love to see you try," she said with a superior look of her own.

He most certainly would.

* * *

After a few more rounds of practicing Hawke was already showing great improvement. She had remembered some of her archery training with Sister Leliana back in Lothering and with a few tips from Sebastian, things were looking more promising.

"Let's take a break. My shoulders are hurting," Hawke pouted. It looked like it was lunchtime anyway.

"One more," Sebastian said and went over to stand behind her.

Putting his arms around her, he adjusted her shoulders and then slid his hands to cover hers and set them in a perfect position on the bow.

Something stirred inside her, but she chased the odd feeling away, blinking a few times to focus back on the target.

"Fire," his whispered in her ear as he slowly pulled away.

Her breath caught in her throat and she took the shot. For the first time that day, she hit the center of the target. Looking both pleased and surprised, she turned around to face him. "How? What was different this time?"

"The secret is holding your breath when you release the arrow," he said, barely containing his smile.

Oh? Realization dawned on her and… she blushed furiously. Dammit! "You cocky son of a bitch! I can't believe you were so confident that would work!"

"You certainly did not prove me wrong, lass," he chuckled, utterly amused. "I told you I wasn't always a Chantry Brother."

"For you to be this sure of yourself, I assume women didn't turn you down much."

He looked up, thinking about her assessment for a while. "No, I guess not."

She rolled her eyes. "It never happened, did it? No woman ever said  _no_  to you!"  _Can't blame them_ , she thought.  _As if looking this good isn't enough, the guy is a fucking prince._

"Hmm… uh… Some must have…"

Hawke let out an unladylike snort and shook her head. "Just forget about it. Let's have lunch."

She invited him to eat at her estate and they took the opportunity to talk to Sandal about the best enchantment options for the Starkhaven Longbow. The dwarf opened his box of runes and selected one of striking and one of impact. While he worked, Sebastian, Hawke and her mother sat at the kitchen table to eat.

"I'm so glad Marian is friends with you, Brother Sebastian. The other people she runs around with… I don't think they are a very good influence on her," Leandra said.

Hawke gave the older woman an incredulous look. "Without their help we wouldn't have all this," she said, waving her arms around her.

Leandra gave her a mirthless smile and turned to Sebastian. "I'm really concerned I won't be able to find her a good husband, Brother. There is the matter of her age and her time spent in jail, of course, but even worse is that she's not a… maiden anymore."

"Mother!"

"If no one knew, I wouldn't mention it, Marian. I haven't said anything for years. But there isn't a soul in this city who didn't see the Knight-Captain leaving this house in the morning many times."

Hawke pinched the bridge of her nose as she took a deep, calming breath and got up. "We better leave, Choi– Seb–, I mean, Brother Sebastian. We're late for that…  _thing_  we have to do, remember?"

"Uh? Oh! Sure," the prince agreed. That conversation was getting way too uncomfortable very fast.

Leandra followed them as they retrieved their cloaks and the bow. "Brother Sebastian, see if you can convince her to attend the service at the Chantry at least once a week and maybe get her to confess. I think it'll be good for her," she said, as they headed to the door.

"I'll talk to her, Lady Amell. Thank you for this lovely lunch," he replied as Hawke rushed him out of the house.

Once they had put some distance between them and her estate, he said, "I know you're embarrassed about your mother telling me those things, but don't be so fast to dismiss her advice. Being a true Andrastian –"

"Spare me, Choir-Boy."

"I… uh… I wish you would stop calling me that."

Hawke halted halfway up the stairs to the Chantry and stared at him. He stopped too, turning to look at her.

"I never knew you minded. Why didn't you say so before?" she asked him.

"I did. Many times, in fact."

_Really? Damn!_  Embarrassed, she averted her eyes from his gaze. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to –"

The archer put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly, making her look back at him. "It's fine, Hawke. It's not a big deal. Life in the Chantry has taught me to be patient," he said smiling, but with a hint of sarcasm.

"You won't be hearing it from me anymore," she promised.

They recommenced their training, now with the target further away. Although half Hawke's arrows were still hitting too high or too low or beside the target, she quickly got bored and began challenging Sebastian to shoot while walking backwards, with less than two seconds of preparation, with eyes closed…

Bull's-eye? No way! "Hey! You peeked!" she accused, putting her hands on her hips.

"I did not," he laughed.

"So do it again. Let's see how it goes when I'm making sure your eyes are closed."

She took his quiver off him and stood behind him. He was a head taller than her and she had to press herself a little too close to him to properly reach and cover his eyes. Her clothes and his own totaled eight layers of fabric between them. Still he could feel the swell of her breasts against his back. This time, he was the one chasing away that feeling of something stirring inside him at her closeness.

Taking a step to his side, she gave him room to pull the string and prepare his shot. As he made the movement, she pressed her hands tighter over his eyes. Her hands were more calloused and rough than any other woman's who had ever touched him. The hands of a warrior, not a noble and he understood why she constantly said he should go fight for Starkhaven. Taking the Amell name and living large with all the coin she had would have been the easiest, most comfortable path for her. But she didn't want easy or comfortable. She wanted to be useful, to keep helping people, to be there for her friends and even strangers, risking her life if it meant making someone else's better. A person like her, who had been a soldier and a mercenary and had to fight for every little thing she had, would never respect a prince who didn't fight for his people and his land when usurpers took over. The apostate, the elf, the Knight-Captain, she respected them more than she respected him. She called them by their names, whilst with him it was always that stupid nickname with the word 'boy' in it.

Hawke blew out an annoyed huff. "Are you taking that shot or what? Not so sure of yourself now, are you?" she teased.

He straightened his shoulders and held his breath. It looked like it would be another bull's-eye. That man was too perfect for his own good.  _Sure there is no harm in humbling him a bit_ , she thought.

The instant he was about to let the arrow go she stood on her tiptoes and yelled, "MISSED!" in his ear. She uncovered his eyes just in time for him to see the arrow flying up and out of the Chantry walls.

He dropped the bow and turned abruptly to face her. She was chuckling wholeheartedly, like he had never seen her do.

"Give me another arrow," he said, narrowing his eyes in pretended anger.

Breathlessly, she shook her head and took a step back. "Uh-uh."

He playfully lounged at her, but she ducked and he lost his balance. As he fell, he grasped her arm, pulling her down with him. They landed almost softly on the snow-blanketed ground, her body over his. They were laughing until they caught each other's eyes and suddenly they both realized that he had his hands on her hips and she was straddling him. For an instant they stayed like that, staring at each other and with their breaths caught in their throats.

He wondered if she was faking this moment just to make him blush, like she had done earlier when they were retrieving the arrows from the target, or if something was really going on there. No matter which, he would have to pray tonight. A lot.

Blinking a few times, so she wouldn't lose herself in the impossible blue of his eyes, she wondered if he was faking this moment just to make her blush, like he had done earlier when he had helped her take that perfect shot, or if something was really going on there. No matter which, that had gone too far.

He had his vows and she had Anders.

She rolled off him and he hastily got up on his feet. By the way they were both really invested in wiping the snow off their clothes and were avoiding looking at each other, it was clear that  _that_   _moment_  had really happened and it hadn't been a set up for one of them to embarrass the other.

"It's getting late," she said, looking everywhere but in his eyes. "I better go."

"Yes, I…" He rubbed the back of his neck. "I have to get ready for the evening service."

They parted ways as quickly as they could, he fleeing to his quarters as she rushed out of the Chantry.

* * *

All the way to her estate Hawke couldn't stop thinking how spending the day with a Chantry Brother could have made her feel all hot and bothered like that. That was a dangerous game they had been playing and she had started it. It wasn't right.

"Where have you been all day?" Anders asked, startling her.

She had been so caught up in her own thoughts she hadn't even noticed the mage waiting for her at her door until she almost stumbled upon him.

"Anders? Anders! Hi! I… ah… I was at the Chantry. Why?" she replied, trying to get a hold of herself. She had done nothing wrong, so why was she was acting as if she had?

"The Chantry?"

Luckily, she managed to unlock the door with a minimum amount of fumbling. "Yes. With Cho– Sebastian. We were practicing with that longbow we found yesterday."

"You didn't come to the clinic. I was worried," Anders said, following her as she got in the house. "And… you're calling him 'Sebastian' now?" He gave her an annoyed look.

"He doesn't like to be called Choir-Boy."

"So he has said many times, but you never cared."

Damn! Was she the only one who wasn't listening?"I care now. What's the big deal anyway? He's a Chantry Brother. He has his vows and his… engagement… or something to Andraste. You can't possibly be jealous of him."

"You're making it sound as if his vows are the only thing keeping you two apart."

"You have got be kidding me, Anders! If I didn't want to be with you, I wouldn't have been spending all this time with you at the clinic. We've been practically living together this past month."

"But we aren't really, are we?"

Hawke took a deep breath and tried to keep herself calm as she asked, "What is it that you want, Anders?"

"I want you to say that we're together, that you're mine, that you love  _me_ , an apostate, and will stand beside me."

"I… uh…" she trailed off, looking down.

He wouldn't have it. Justice wasn't wrong to think he was obsessed with her.

Taking a determinate step towards her, Anders cupped her chin, making her look back at him. His warm whiskey eyes locked on hers, the intensity of his gaze sending shivers down her spine. "I couldn't stop thinking about you, wondering where you were, when you were going to show… I love you, Marian, and it would kill me to lose you."

How come he was always so damn intense? His words, the way he said her given name for the first time, it was all very disarming. "You aren't going to lose me," she found herself saying. It was definitely easier than  _I love you_.

He closed the distance between them, tangling his fingers in her hair and tilting her head up slightly, angling her mouth to better fit his. "Say you're mine, Marian."

Her lips parted and his tongue immediately invaded her. Wrapping his other arm around her, he pulled her even closer.

Unable to resist that hungry kiss that at the same time pleaded for her love and demanded that she gave it to him, she melted into him. He backed her to the nearest wall, running his hands over her sides, drinking her moans as his mouth plundered hers.

And then he was kneading her breasts over her clothes, pressing his hardening length against her when they heard the creak of a door being opened. Immediately she grabbed his arm and rushed him to her room.

Without even looking, he lit the hearth with a fireball and pinned her against the door as she was locking it, grinding his erection against her ass. She moaned wantonly and tried to turn to face him, but he didn't let her. "I want you to say it."

"Make me," she taunted him, causing him to gasp. Maker help him, he would.

"Take off your clothes," he ordered, taking a step back to better watch her strip.

Down went her cloak and a jacket and a tunic… For Andraste's sake, she was wearing too many pieces of clothing and he was too eager to just wait there. He helped her out the rest of them, getting rid of his own at the same time.

They were both naked when he pushed her on her back on the bed. He began mapping her body with his mouth, his tongue and lips tasting every inch of her neck, her collarbone and then her breasts. Flicking his tongue on one pink nipple, he pulled and pinched the other with his fingers, until they were both swollen. One after the other, he suckled them hard, enjoying the satisfied noises that were coming from her.

Putting her legs on his shoulders, he continued making his path of kisses on her taut stomach and down to her heated center. He parted her slick folds and closed his mouth around her nub, licking and sucking it and eliciting deliciously tormented moans from her. Pushing one finger inside her, his breath hitched to find her incredibly warm and wet and ready for him. He kept his ministrations on her clit as he entered her with a second finger, pumping them in and out of her. A third finger slipped in and she was writhing and arching her back, already on the verge of orgasm.

His thumb replaced his lips on her nub. "Do you want to come, love?"

She was about to, but he slowed down his movements. Damn! She was so close… A needful whimper was all that came out of her mouth.

"Do you?" he insisted.

"Mmm… I do," she managed to answer.

"Say you are mine."

She felt electricity beginning to buzz on his fingers, too weak, too little. Desperately so. "Anders… please…"

"Say it, Marian."

His lips went back to her clit, close enough for her to feel the spark of electricity on them too, but not quite touching her and… "Oh, Maker! Anders, please… I am! I am yours!" she breathed out, shamelessly bucking her hips upwards, desperate for contact.

He rewarded her by taking her nub back in his mouth. Instantly, she tumbled over the edge, her climax so powerful, she screamed for anyone who would hear that yes, oh yes, she was his.

She was still trembling and breathing raggedly, slowly coming down from her high, when he pulled his fingers out of her. His cock was rock hard and she thought he would enter her. Instead, he flipped her on her stomach and one slick finger ran down the cleft of her ass.

Caressing her firm behind with his free hand, he whispered that he loved her and how much he wanted her as he eased his finger in her rear entrance. She didn't complain, didn't ask him to stop and soon after, a second finger followed. There was a sting of pain and her body tensed instinctively.

Planting light kisses and grazing his teeth softly on the nape of her neck and her back he got her to relax again. However, sooner than she expected, that burning sensation was back as he pushed a third finger into her. Sucking in a deep breath, she willed herself not to resist him, to let him stretch her and have her like he wanted to. Sex with Anders had been nothing short of amazing every single time and she was willing to try anything with him.

He began thrusting his fingers in and out of her, loosening her tight ring for him. When he halted his movements and pulled out, a moan of protest escaped her and he smiled, utterly pleased with her reaction.

Suddenly she smelled something sweet, like honey, and lyrium. Propping herself up on her elbows, she turned to look at him. He was stroking himself, smearing a slick honey-scented substance on his shaft. So there was a grease spell? Magic was so… useful? Kinky? Wonderful, definitely.

All coherent thought was gone from her mind when she felt him spreading the creamy cheeks of her ass apart and pressing his cock against her. Even with all that preparation, it hurt more than she had imagined and she clenched her fists on the bedcovers.

"Anders…" she whimpered. "I… oh my… you're too big. I can't…"

His body covered hers, the thick head of his member still pushing ever so slowly into her as he began whispering in her ear, "You can, love. Relax. Aren't you mine? Let me have you."

He pushed her hands up above her head, lacing his fingers in hers as he kept talking to her, his words soothing and loving and arousing and… she surrendered to him. She let him take her and when his cock was buried to the hilt inside her the pain was gone, replaced by pleasure and unbelievable fullness. Staying still for a while, he let her get used to him until she wriggled her ass to the best of her ability, being pinned underneath him like she was, wanting him to move. He complied, with short, gentle thrusts at first, but enough to make her groan and squeeze his fingers in her hands almost as tight as her ass was squeezing his cock. Maker, he wouldn't last.

When his hand slid under her to stroke her clit, she shuddered and moaned wantonly. This was one of those times when it wasn't safe for him to use magic, because he wouldn't be able to control it. Not that he would need it anyway. Her folds were drenched with her arousal and he could tell that her release was upon her.

"Has anyone ever fucked you like this, love?"

"N-No," she breathed out.

"Do you like it?" he asked, increasing his pace.

"Mmmm… Oh, yes. YES! Maker, yes! "

"Come for me, love."

Before he had finished the sentence she was already there, squirming and clawing at the bedcovers, breathlessly moaning his name. Her ass was clenching even more around him, unbearably so, and with a low, guttural cry he exploded, flooding her with unending jolts of his seed.

He didn't let his weight fall over her when he was done. Rolling on his back, he pulled her to him. She nestled on his side, resting her head on his sweaty chest as she let out a contented sigh.

"Mine," he murmured, leaning down to place a loving kiss on her hair.


	36. Like Dreamers Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Hawke and Anders. Night Terrors with a twist. Blackpowder Courtesy.

The weather was not so bad anymore. The snow was beginning to melt, people were back on the streets, the markets were busy again and so was Hawke. There was some issue in the Bone Pit that Hubert needed her help with and she had gotten a letter from Arianni about another problem with Feynriel. Maybe her friends would be willing to lend her a hand and she sent word for all of them, except Fenris, to meet her at the Hanged Man for lunch. Before she could ask for their help though, Varric spoke.

"Red and I tracked down Javaris, Hawke. He didn't steal the formula to the  _saar-qamek_. He said it was an elf and she's hiding here in Lowtown."

"Yes. We need to find her. And I want your help with that templar – Emeric. Do you remember him, Hawke? He's convinced that every random murder in the past few years is connected and he won't be quiet," Aveline said.

"I'll talk to him," Hawke replied.

"Are we still going to get those ingredients for Sol?" Merrill asked.

Hawke had almost forgotten about that. When they had gone to Sundermount to find the Varterral's heart and the Dalish tattoo ink, they had been ambushed by slavers and ended up somewhere else, helping Fenris hunt down Hadrianna. "We are. Why?"

"Oh… I… need a special tool from my clan. An Arulin'Holm. But the Keeper… I can't talk to her. We fight or talk circles around each other. She has a disappointed frown that turns your bones to jelly. Will you talk to her for me, pleeeease?"

Hawke held back the urge to roll her eyes and said, "Sure, Merrill. Anything else?"

"There's a woman, a mage sympathizer, who's running a board for mages seeking help. She's at the Docks. Can we go see her? Maybe we can help," Anders said.

The rogue just nodded in agreement. It seemed this year was going to be an extra busy one. "Isabela? Sebastian?"

"I found a strange book in the Chantry. It was about blood magic and when I destroyed it, demons and shades were summoned," the prince said.

"I destroyed one of those in the Keep too. I didn't think there would be more," Aveline said.

"Why would you destroy them?" Merrill asked with genuine curiosity.

"She's just joking, aren't you, Daisy?" Varric laughed out loud, elbowing her. "She's just joking," he repeated emphatically.

"We should investigate. There might be others," Hawke jumped in before Merrill could say anything even more compromising. They had already risked too much letting Sebastian know about the mages in her band. It was best if he didn't find out one of them was actually a blood mage. He might not be willing to overlook that and she'd rather not have to kill him to keep Merrill safe. "What about you, Isabela?"

"Well, since you asked… Remember that relic I told you about? I've been following a lead. I'm so close I can taste it! If you don't mind helping me do some digging… It's in a stash somewhere in the Wounded Coast."

Hawke raised her brows, twisting her lips. " _Somewhere_?"

"Hey, I know enough to narrow down the search to a couple of caves," the pirate said.

Hawke dragged her hands over her face. She was sure that would be a tremendous waste of time and get them nowhere.

"I have never seen the ocean. All we got in Starkhaven is the Minanter River. As impressive as that is, I suppose," Sebastian remarked absently and Hawke saw her way out of that dead end job.

"Really? You don't know what you're missing, Cho– Sebastian! You go with Isabela then. Help her with this," she said.

"I'm bringing a tent. I think we might need to spend the night there," the pirate said, winking at the prince.

Sebastian chided himself internally for having walked right into that one. "No, I… uh…"

"I could go with you, Isabela. I mean… if you think you might need my help," Merrill said, wringing her hands and giving the pirate an expectant look.

"Sure, Kitten," she said cheerfully and turned to Sebastian. "Rain check, Choir-Boy? That tent is for two."

Aveline gave Isabela a surprised look. "What happened to 'the more the merrier'?"

"Apparently, that's not how Merrill likes it," Anders said, making the elf blush to the tip of her ears.

"If you break Daisy's heart, Rivaini, you're answering to Bianca," Varric muttered to the pirate.

* * *

Hawke and her companions went to see Arianni after their meal on the Hanged Man. It would still take a couple of hours for Keeper Marethari to get there, so Hawke was taking her time figuring out who to bring with her to the Fade. Sebastian had had a strong reaction just at her having agreed to help Feynriel and since she was not in the mood to argue, she just sent him back to the Chantry. Aveline suggested they let that situation be dealt by the Circle, which made Hawke cringe and she dismissed the warrior too. Merrill and Isabela would most probably have no qualms about cutting a deal with a demon there, so it was best if they sat this one out.

Since Anders had a lot of first-hand experience with creatures of the Fade, no doubt about that, and she was sure Justice would keep him safe there, she decided to take him. Varric too, because he was her best friend, a reliable friend and she trusted him.

There was someone else she was certain wouldn't go making deals with demons, but after what had happened between them, she didn't know if he would still be willing to follow her around. Maybe…

"Anders, will you talk to Varric about the Fade, tell him what it's like and what's to expect? We still have some time until the Keeper arrives and there's someone I need to see before we do this," Hawke said already leaving Arianni's house and not giving Anders the chance to ask any questions.

* * *

It felt like a déjà vu being at Fenris' door unsure about knocking, wondering if he was still in Kirkwall, if he would still want to work with her…

He opened the door before she could knock. He had heard her get there, recognized the sound of her footsteps and got anxious when it took her too long to knock, thinking that she might give up and leave without talking to him. "What you want, Hawke?" he asked. It sounded harsher than he intended. Still, it didn't intimidate her.

"I need your help, Fenris. There's… a place I need to go to and I need people I can trust by my side."

He had to hold back not to smile at that. She still trusted him; it was good to hear it. "Where?"

"The Fade," she answered, her chin held high as if she was challenging him to try to convince her otherwise.

"The Fade is a place for mages, not for people like you and I," he couldn't help saying, even though he knew it wouldn't change her mind.

"If I don't go, Feynriel might be lost forever."

His eyes narrowed and he clenched his fists. Just remembering how much trouble Feynriel had been the first time they had had to help him was infuriating. "This boy again?"

"There will be demons there and they'll tempt us," she continued as if Fenris had never spoken. "So you can imagine why Merrill and Isabela are not suitable for this quest. I trust Sebastian wouldn't betray me for some demon, but he refused to help. Aveline… is busy. Bottom line is you, Varric and Anders are my best bet to get this done."

"Are you bringing the abomination with us?"

"So you're going?"

"I have no desire to explore the Fade, but if you need me, I will go," he admitted. Some of her friends really couldn't be trusted to have her back in the Fade, but he could and he wouldn't let her down.

"Good. We better leave now. Keeper Marethari will be arriving any minute to start the ritual." Hawke turned on her heels and started walking.

Fenris hastily grabbed his sword and went after her, grasping her arm when he reached her. "Hawke!"

Halting suddenly, she turned to look at him, her eyes drifting to his gauntleted hand that still hadn't let go of her arm. It was nice to know they could still touch each other, even though he was being a bit rougher than the situation required. If he had just called her name, she would've turned to answer him just like she was doing now.

"Are you sure about the abomination?" he asked.

She huffed loudly. "His name is Anders and, yes, I'm sure. He hates blood mages as much as you do, so I know he won't go making deals with demons there. Plus, we could use Justice's experience in the Fade."

Fenris was at a loss for words. He felt he should argue and disagree with her, but her reasons to bring the abomination with them made sense. A frustrating lot of sense.

* * *

The instant they entered the Fade, Justice took over Anders' body. "I had not thought to return in such a way. It is good to feel the breath of the Fade again, not the empty air of your world."

"Feeling homesick, Justice? Maybe you should stay here and leave Anders alone," Hawke retorted.

"He wouldn't be missed," Varric muttered an aside to Fenris.

"I do not understand Anders' obsession with you, human. It has to end. You are distracting him from his path," Justice's voiced rumbled, loud and irritated. "However, you are here to save a mage and you don't have much time. I can feel his mind straining, so I will help you. But do not count me as your ally."

"I don't, believe me," Hawke replied, rolling her eyes as she took point and began the search for Feynriel.

After they defeated the demon of sloth, they met one of desire. They broke its hold of Feynriel, but then Hawke felt like she was being stabbed through the heart as the creature turned into Arthur, young, healthy and handsome as the day he had returned to Lothering to marry her.

"Leave them, Marian. They don't love you like I do. You'll always come in second for them. We can finally get married," he spoke.

Hawke's companions exchanged worried glances.

"A-Arthur," she gasped, her voice breaking. "I'm so sorry."

That was not going well and Varric took a step closer to her.

"It is forgiveness you desire and only I can give it to you. Kill them and you shall have it. Everything we had will be restored," Arthur offered.

She trembled and the dwarf reached for her hand and squeezed it gently. "Hawke, this is not him. Arthur is gone."

"The Fade is the only place where your failure can be erased," Arthur said, his eyes fixed on hers.

"Oh, Arthur, I really did fail you, didn't I? I'm so sorry," she sobbed.

"Hawke, this isn't him!" Fenris bellowed, trying to snap her out of it.

Varric tightened his grip on her hand. "Hawke, think. Would Arthur ask you to kill your friends?"

"N-No." She took a deep breath, swallowing back her tears. "He wouldn't. He was decent, virtuous, a better person than I'll ever be."  _Infinitely better._

So many demons had tried to lure her these past years, in that foundry in Lowtown, when they were trying to escape the Primeval Thaig, at the Vimmark Mountains, Torpor just now as they entered the Fade and she had never even considered making a deal with any of them, but this one delved in the depths of her mind to offer her something none of the others had: forgiveness. Her true heart's desire.

How weak was she. She had seen the monster turn into him, but still felt compelled to believe the creature. When she had entered the Fade, she knew full well something like this would happen. Yet for a moment there she had wanted to give in, craving the peace of mind that Arthur's forgiveness would bring her, even if it wasn't real.

She stared at the demon who was cruelly wearing his face.  _It isn't him_ , she reassured herself. Arthur had many qualities, but he was never this articulate.  _Clearly, it isn't him_ , she repeated. He wouldn't tell her to betray her friends.

"Hawke, we don't want to fight you," Varric said.

"No. You won't have to. I know this… this isn't him," she said in a shaky voice and squeezed back the dwarf's hand so he would know he could trust her.

The demon must have realized it had lost its grasp on her and turned back to its original form, already summoning shades to attack them.

Fenris leapt in front of Hawke, figuring she wouldn't be at her best to fight right now. The devilish creature still had its eyes on her, making her blood boil with anger, frustration and shame. That filthy demon had violated her mind, used Arthur against her and she… she had almost caved. Fuck! She would rip that thing apart.

Hawke vanished from behind the elf to appear face to face with the demon. It attacked her with Winter's Grasp, but the rogue was strong enough to keep moving, burying her daggers in its chest in an agonizingly slow motion. The demon casted a Drain Life spell, sucking from Hawke the health that her blades were taking from the creature. Although she was feeling weaker and dizzier with each heartbeat and her movement speed was still reduced, she kept sinking her daggers deeper in its chest.

The demon clawed at Hawke desperately and when it finally died, it was because Hawke had no more life to be drained out of her. She slumped to the floor, hearing in the distance her companions shouting her name as they were swarmed by the shades.

* * *

Hawke woke up with a start at Arianni's house. Her friends were still sleeping, eye balls rolling frantically under their closed eyelids. Disappointed at herself, she sat up and dropped her head to her hands. All she could do now was hope Varric, Fenris and Justice would be able to get it done in time to save Feynriel.

The two elven women came over to her side and Hawke told them not to lose faith. Varric was still there and he would carry on the mission. He had helped Feynriel before, he had taken him to the Dalish and Feynriel trusted him.

They waited in silence, until Fenris woke up, disrupting the quiet.

"What happened?" Hawke asked urgently.

Keeper Marethari stared at him, a piercing, knowing look on her face that made him blush and avert his eyes. "We all have weaknesses the demons find," she uttered.

The rogue gawked at the elf. "You?"

"I… I'm sorry. I would have thought myself above such influence," he apologized.

She could hardly believe it. "You're the last person I thought would make a deal with a demon."

Fenris glanced at Arianni and Marethari. "I do not wish to discuss this now, Hawke."

"Fine. You can go."  _You hypocrite! Don't think I won't hold this against you, because I will. I can barely wait for you to begin ranting about mages again,_ she wanted to add, but kept it to herself to avoid another screaming match, especially since they were not alone.

Thankfully, it didn't take long until the others woke up and they brought good news, besides Anders being back in control of his body – Feynriel was alive, not Tranquil and would be going to Tevinter to learn how to handle his abilities.

They left Arianni's house planning to go have a few drinks at the Hanged Man, but as they were passing by a side alley, they saw guards closing the way forward while a crowd was gathered around them. Most were just curious citizens, trying to see what was going on beyond the guards' blockage, but a few were truly desperate people, claiming they had to pass to find their loved ones that hadn't gotten away in time.

Hawke pushed through the crowd to meet the guard in charge. "What's going on?"

"Messere Hawke? Maker, please, the street is death," the guardsman said. "There was a cloud that drove people mad, and now a seeping mist that kills. All I can do is warn people. If someone like you dies on my watch, I'm right stuffed."

Anders managed to get to her side, carrying a reluctant Varric under his arm.

"Damn you, Blondie! Put me down! Now!" the dwarf complained.

The mage dropped him and said innocently, "I just thought it would be easier for you to get through the crowd like this."

"You thought it would be funnier, that's more like it," Varric grumbled.

"Shut up you two," Aveline said, joining them. "Guardsman Mason, keep your post. We will take it from here."

Aveline took point and Hawke and the others fell into step behind her. "He's a good man," she spoke about Mason. "Trust that it's as bad as he says."

One sniff at the odd greenish mist that was covering the street and Anders could already recognize some of the ingredients that had been used to make it and what were the possible effects of exposure to it. "Everyone, drink an elfroot potion before we get deep into this. What we're dealing with here is really strong. We're probably going to need a detox… if we survive."

It was something very strong indeed, they all noticed as it was getting harder and harder for all of them to concentrate and fight with every minute that went by. Once the crazy elven woman that was behind the whole incident was dead, they crawled out of that poisoned alley, coughing, with bleeding noses and sore eyes.

"We need to get rid of these clothes and bathe as soon as possible," Anders told them. "And drink another elfroot potion if you have any left," he added, since he was too weak to cast a healing spell that would be powerful enough to help all of them.

"See that our next job is on the beach, Hawke. We could use some fresh air," Varric said, before turning his head to the side and throwing up.

Of all of them, the dwarf was the one in worst shape and Hawke cursed herself for letting her short friend get in that poisoned alley in the first place. Of course he would be affected more than the taller and heavier people. He was even having trouble getting on his feet and Aveline got Mason to carry him to the Hanged Man. The guardswoman left for the barracks, while Anders and Hawke stayed at the tavern with him to make sure he would be alright.

At Hawke's request, Norah quickly drew a bath for him in his room. She made some snarky comments about what she thought was just Varric being drunk as… well, a dwarf, which Hawke and Anders ignored. Varric was muttering nonsense, slipping in and out of consciousness and they were not in the mood to explain the whole story to the waitress. Also, he would probably prefer if people thought he was filthy drunk rather than poisoned while fighting against a crazy elf for the benefit of Kirkwall. Being a martyr was not his style.

As the waitress left, Hawke and Anders got rid of the dwarf's clothes and got him into the bathtub. She scrubbed him clean of the  _saar-qamek_  with what was left of her strength; while the mage was fumbling with all their remaining potions, separating for them to drink the ones he thought would help.

They got Varric to swallow a couple of potions before putting him to bed, remembering to dress him in clean smalls so he wouldn't wake up thinking he had lost too much of his dignity that night.

It seemed that it was only taking care of the dwarf that was keeping Hawke together, because the moment he fell asleep under the covers she fell to the ground on her hands and knees. Anders hastily went to get Norah to draw them a new bath and while the waitress got it done, he sat on the floor by Hawke's side and pulled her to his lap. She was pale, sweating and shaking and though he was not feeling well himself, he tried to give her what comfort he could.

When they were alone again, they undressed and bathed. Exhausted, still feeling sick and experiencing a few lingering effects of the poison, they went to bed. To Varric's bed, which was a double bed and fitted the three of them somewhat comfortably, with Hawke mostly draped over Anders.

They could have rented a room for themselves at the Hanged Man, since they were clearly in no condition to make the trip back to Hightown, however they were not thinking straight and just crashed on the nearest bed, which was Varric's.

The next day they woke up startled, the dwarf shouting by their side, "Oh, shit! I'll be a nug's uncle! Did we…?"

"No!" Anders and Hawke replied in unison.

Varric took another look at them, at how they had their arms around each other. "Did you…?"

"No," Hawke said at the same time Anders said, "Not tonight."

"I knew it!" the storyteller uttered triumphantly, even in his debilitated state.

"It's nice to see you're feeling better, dwarf," Hawke said dryly and shot the mage an icy look. They hadn't agreed on telling the others they were together.

"It really is, sweetheart," Anders said, purposefully ignoring her glare. "Think you can find us some clothes, Varric?"

"Sure. Rivaini must have something Hawke can borrow and I'm sure there must be men's clothes somewhere in her room too." Varric got up, his movements slower than usual, and went to get dressed and break into Isabela's room. If she had gone with Merrill to the Wounded Coast, they probably hadn't come back yet.

The instant Varric left, Hawke turned angrily to Anders. "You had to tell Varric? Really? He's going to tell everyone!"

Anders shrugged. "So?"

"Well, it's just… It's that…"

"See! You can even find a reason! What is wrong with you?"

Damn, she wanted to slap him. Why didn't he get it that she was just not ready to parade in front of everyone her possessed apostate lover? She could do without the pressure that putting a label on that  _thing_  they were having would bring, without her mother asking when they would get married, without her companions keeping tabs on them and meddling in their every business. And just to think about the tragic, awful ways her two past serious relationships ended, she felt like she should never even consider being in one again.

Before she could answer Anders, Varric returned bringing them clothes, but panting and bleeding from various nicks and small wounds on his arms, hands and face.

"Fuck, Varric, what happened?" Hawke wrapped herself up in a sheet and rushed over to the injured dwarf's side. "Anders, do something!" What kind of place was Kirkwall that they couldn't walk a few steps without being attacked?

Varric dropped the clothes and leaned against the wall, wincing as his arm touched the hard surface. "Rivaini, that dirty nug-licker, had shrapnel traps all over her room. You might have noticed I'm not on my best, so I guess I don't need to tell you I didn't manage to disarm them all."

At least Anders was feeling well enough to cast a healing spell on the dwarf. While he recovered, Hawke went over the clothes he had brought only to find out the boots, skirt and shirt he had gotten for her were all hers in the first place.  _Maybe I should set some traps in my room too_ , she thought, inwardly shaking her head at the pirate.


	37. All I've Got to Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Offered and Lost. Fenris is back with the gang. A little jealousy and smut to spice things up.

" _No ship is coming. There is no rescue from duty to the Qun,"_  Hawke kept repeating the Arishok's words in her head. That was not going to end well. If only she knew what they were looking for, what was needed for them to leave Kirkwall peacefully. He had told her they hadn't gone there to indoctrinate, so what it was that they wanted? And, now, as if the relations between them and the city weren't tense enough, everyone's patience already stretched thin, the Viscount tells her about the Qunari delegate and his entourage that had gone missing right after leaving his office.

There were always several guards standing watch at the Keep. The fucking barracks were there, for crying out loud! How come these Qunari could have disappeared from the Viscount's doorstep and no one knew anything about it?

Hawke stabbed at her food impatiently. This damned city was too messed up. No one could do their fucking jobs, they needed her for every damn thing. "Aveline, about these Qunari who went missing at the Keep from right under your guards' nose…" she started.

"What are you implying, Hawke?" the warrior asked in her best warning tone.

Hawke wasn't intimidated. "I'm not implying anything. I'm affirming that either some of your guards are involved in this or they're a sorry bunch of dumbasses."

All her companions fell silent around the large table in Varric's room where they were having lunch together. That thought had crossed everyone's mind, but no one had said a word about it. No one was willing to pick a fight with Aveline. Except for Hawke, apparently.

The Guard-Captain saw red. Her nostrils flared and she huffed loudly, her clenched fist hitting the table with a thud and making all plates and glasses jitter over it.

She opened her mouth to say something, but Hawke spoke first. "Can you honestly say I don't have a point?"

Aveline stood up tall, squaring her shoulders and Hawke immediately followed, mimicking her posture. "Maybe it is time I become a better Captain and stop overlooking it every damn time  _you_  break the law."

They glared at each other, with narrow eyes and gritted teeth, their stances menacing.

"If you two are going at it, you should get more comfortable. No armor, right, Blondie?" Varric jested, trying to break the tension.

"And no weapons. We don't want it to be over too soon," Anders played along, hoping they weren't really considering attacking each other.

"And some oil," Sebastian let out before he could stop himself and blushed instantly at everyone's surprised look.

"Good one, Choir-Boy. Sometimes I forget you were a real man once," Varric chuckled.

"Let's not give them the satisfaction," Aveline said, her eyes still trained on Hawke.

"Are you going to at least investigate what in the Void happened to the fucking Qunari delegate?" Hawke asked.

"Yes," Aveline answered sharply. "Think you can find something helpful to do while I'm at it, something that doesn't involve breaking any laws?"

"I'll try," Hawke replied dryly.

"You'd better," Aveline retorted and walked out of the room in angry strides.

* * *

When Hawke had last visited the Qunari compound, one of the guards had told her one of their patrols had disappeared on the Wounded Coast. Maybe the same people, whoever they were, were behind both cases? She had no real leads, other than asking around town about the missing Qunari and searching the Wounded Coast for clues. Since Aveline was already taking care of the investigation in Kirkwall, she decided to take on the search for the lost patrol on the beach.

This time Hawke was not in the mood for camping or a having a picnic by the seaside, she just wanted to get these issues with the Qunari solved, thus she brought Varric, Anders, Merrill, Isabela and Garrus with her and split them in two teams so they would cover more ground in less time.

Sebastian was left behind. He had mentioned he had never seen the ocean and she thought it would be best if she brought him there on a less busy day so he could enjoy the view and maybe take a swim.

At sundown the two teams met back at their starting point. The trip to the beach hadn't been of much help. Hawke, Isabela and Merrill had found the bodies of the missing Qunari patrol and then had been attacked by shades, but there were no signs or clues of any kind of who might have summoned them.

At least Anders, Varric and Garrus had managed to free a mage girl that had been captured by a bounty-hunter, fulfilling a request from Mistress Selby's board which left Anders in a great mood and, also, they had gathered one of the rare ingredients Solivitus had asked for. If not for that, the day would have been a complete waste.

It was already late in the evening when they made it back to Kirkwall and Hawke hoped Aveline had had more luck shedding light on the case about the missing Qunari. She was arriving home with Anders and Garrus, when she saw the warrior passing by with a couple of guards behind her, their pace urgent. Hawke started after them and the dog and the mage followed.

"Did you find anything?" she asked.

"I did," Aveline replied, without stopping or even sparing a glance towards Hawke.

"Need any help?"

Aveline opened her mouth ready to spit a resonant  _no_  to Hawke's face, but her eyes darted to one of the guards behind her and then to Anders. "Yes, thank you," she said politely.

There was something going on there, Hawke realized, eyeing the same guard. "You're the one we saved from an ambush a few years back. Donnic, right?"

"Yes, Serah Hawke. It's good to see you again. I hope you're faring well," he said.

"Ser Varnell is responsible for the disappearance of the Qunari delegate," Aveline hastily said, ending Hawke and Donnic's conversation.

It worked to pique Hawke's interest. "Don't tell me that zealot, Petrice –"

"Yes, she is involved. She told me where Ser Varnell is. That's where we're going. She'll meet us there," the guardswoman explained.

"You let her go alone? She could be setting up an ambush for us right now!"

"You don't need to tell me how to do my job, Hawke!" Aveline replied, raising her voice. "Sebastian was at the Chantry and he'll be escorting her to the meeting place."

"Good. But how did Ser Varnell manage to abduct these Qunari anyway?"

"Remember how the seneschal insisted we had templars in our ranks? I even asked you to help me convince the Knight-Captain to comply, since you were dating at the time."

"Yes."

"There you go."

The rest of the journey was made in a tense and uncomfortable silence, with Aveline waiting for Hawke to throw another accusation at her and Hawke barely keeping herself from doing just that.

Things didn't get any better as they reached Ser Varnell's hideout.

"Look what I found here," Hawke said, retrieving a shield from a crate. " _Borne by the one true Ser Aveline_ ," she read the inscription on the back of the shield out loud in mock solemn voice.

"We're trying to get something important done here, Hawke. Who knows what Ser Varnell might be doing right now to those Qunari? Do you really have to go over every damn crate and barrel we come across?" Aveline said impatiently.

"It seems like a nice shield and it has your name on it," Anders pointed out. "Don't you want it?"

"Orlesian smiths engrave Ser Aveline's name on every second piece of armor. This didn't really belong to her, you know," the guardswoman said.

"So you don't want it?" Hawke asked.

"It is a fine shield," Donnic remarked, taking a closer look.

"What is Ser Aveline to me? She –"

"I know the story," Hawke interrupted the Guard-Captain, remembering fondly how Sister Leliana had told her the tragic tale of Ser Aveline the day they had met back in Lothering. "You're keeping you're old shield then?"

"It has served me well," the red-haired warrior said sternly.

"It sure looks like it, worn out as it is," Hawke teased.

Aveline glared at her. "You're saying I should give it up entirely?"

"No, but it's not suitable for the kind of battle we get involved in anymore. Keep it on an armor stand in your office if you don't want to sell it," Hawke replied.

"I think I should be the judge of that," Aveline retorted.

Hawke rolled her eyes. "It belonged to Wesley. That's how old it is. You can't count on it to hold out in a real fight."

"Who's Wesley?" Donnic asked.

"Her late husband," Anders supplied.

"I didn't know you were a widow, Captain. My condolences," Donnic said politely.

Aveline looked at them, exasperated. That was not the time or place for that. They had a job to do. "Please," she exhaled heavily, "can't we just go? We need to find Ser Varnell before it's too late."

"Fine." Hawke dropped the shield back in the crate where she had found it and took point.

Donnic looked at it and then at Aveline and her really old shield. "This one is much –"

"I know," she let out an irritated huff, snatched the Orlesian shield and strapped it to her back.

When they finally found Ser Varnell and met with Petrice and Sebastian, the situation had already gone downhill. The Qunari had been tortured and murdered and Hawke and her band were swarmed by… common folk, wearing not armor, but simple clothes and while some of them carried improvised weapons, most were unarmed. Even though they were all zealots with hate and murder in their eyes, they seemed like the kind of people they protected, not killed, and Aveline and her guards hesitated.

Unfortunately, a second of hesitation could be the difference between life and death in combat and while Hawke, Anders and Garrus jumped right into it, Aveline only began striking to kill when her two guards were already bleeding out on the floor.

Sebastian couldn't believe what he was doing as he joined the fray, shooting his arrows against those poor people to help out his friends.

With her escort distracted, the sly Mother Petrice took the opportunity to flee the templar's hideout.

When the fight was over, Varnell and his followers were dead and so was one of the guardsmen. And while Anders was trying to save the other, Aveline was wearing a hole on the ground by his side with her nervous pacing. Hawke gestured to Garrus to follow her as they stepped away, giving them more room. The healer certainly didn't need any more people breathing down his neck while he worked.

She went over to the prince, who was leaning against a wall with his head down and had a miserable look on his face.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"No, Hawke. This is not right," he spoke, his voice shaky. "These were not bandits or raiders. They were devoted Andrastians that were misled by a templar and a Mother of the Chantry – the very people who should have given them guidance and set them in the path of the Maker."

He had actually seen those men and women at the Chantry many times, had heard their confessions, prayed with them and blessed their children. No doubt they had been recruited there, right under his nose and he hadn't noticed it. Now they were all dead, leaving behind their kids and loved ones, now orphans and widowers. He had to speak to Elthina, tell her about what had happened here, about Mother Petrice and Ser Varnell.

"Don't you want to say a prayer for them? Maybe it'll make you feel better."

Of course! What was happening to him that he hadn't thought of that? Falling to his knees, he looked up at her. "Pray with me."

"I… don't. But I'll keep you company," she said, kneeling by his side and holding his hand.

He laced his fingers in hers, tightening his grip as his prayer became more and more fervent. The words were coming out heavy with anger. That was not the right feeling for a Chantry Brother to have in a moment like that, but he couldn't help it; it was so unfair that all those people were dead and that a Mother and a templar were involved.

His strong grip was starting to hurt her hand and she had to stop him. "Sebastian," she called softly.

He looked guilty and still angry as he opened his eyes to meet hers and she cupped his face gently with her free hand to appease him.

"There's so much wrong here, Hawke," he said, his voice hoarse. "I don't think I can –"

"We can," she reassured him. "We'll sort this out."

Sighing tiredly, he gave her the slightest nod in agreement. "I'll talk to Elthina about Mother Petrice."

They stood up, their hands still entwined. "Hey," she said, "I'm sorry that you got dragged into this, but we'll fix this. I promise."

"We have to. Thank the Maker for you, Hawke," he uttered, pulling her into a hug. How come just a few words of reassurance from her had soothed him more than his prayer?

"Ahem!" Anders interrupted them. Viscount Dumar had just arrived with a few guardsmen. Aveline had probably sent for him.

"I'll go back to the Chantry," Sebastian said, giving Hawke a sad half-smile and squeezing her hand before leaving.

She nodded and turned to the Viscount, who was looking around in horror at all those corpses. "This is madness! I cannot return the bodies to the Arishok in this state. What should I do, serah Hawke?"

Hawke sucked in a deep breath. This was going to be a very long night.

* * *

She didn't have much time to rest. When Hawke met Varric for lunch the next day he had just found out Bartrand was back in town. The two rogues were not the only ones dying to confront him for his betrayal in the Deep Roads, so Hawke decided to be nice and fair and give all who would like to face him the chance to do so.

That was how she ended up for the millionth time at the broody elf's door. Not unlike Bartrand, he had betrayed her. She didn't even want to think about what would have happened if he had won the fight and succeeded in killing Anders and Varric in the Fade that day. Would the healer have become Tranquil or would Justice have been able to protect him? And what would have happened to that poor kid Feynriel? Of one thing she was certain, if that elf had harmed or somehow managed to turn one of her mage friends Tranquil, she would not have shown him any mercy.

Those thoughts about Fenris and his hatred for mages weren't doing her any good and since hearing about Bartrand being back in the city had already set her in a murderous mood, she felt like punching the elf on the spot just for the nonchalant way he answered the door and asked her what she was doing there.

She took a deep breath and just went on and said what she had to say, before she regretted going after him in the first place, "Bartrand is back and Varric, Anders and I are going to set some things straight with him. Do you want to come?"

He looked surprised. "You want me to join you again?"

"I don't know. Are you sure you're not going to run away with the first demon that crosses our path?"

Her provocation hit the spot and he narrowed his eyes at her. "I am sorry about what happened in the Fade, Hawke. I apologize for my weakness, but the more I think about it, the more I believe you are also to blame."

Her mouth fell open and she looked at him in disbelief.

"Why did you take me to the Fade? We should have hunted the boy's body down and killed him!" he said, raising his voice.

"You cannot be serious about this! For how long do you know me, Fenris? Do you honestly think I would even consider killing an innocent boy when there was a chance he could be saved? You know what?" She shoved her index finger angrily on his chest and yelled, "Fuck you!"

Turning on her heels, she stormed out and was already halfway down to Bartrand's house where she would meet Varric and Anders when she heard quickly approaching steps behind her. Furiously, she turned around to find that damned stubborn elf again. "WHAT?"

"If you were still there in the Fade when that demon made its offer, Hawke, I believe I would not have fallen prey to it so easily," he said, his efforts to keep an expressionless face rendered null and void by the anxiety that seeped through his voice.

"What are you saying, Fenris?"

"I… I wish to stand by your side."

That was most definitely not what she expected to hear from him right now. "Do you really mean that?"

His reply was instant and sure. "Yes."

It was a relief knowing that she could count on him again, but that didn't mean she wouldn't keep her eyes open for his weaknesses or go easy on him. "So you better start showing up at the Hanged Man for our meetings," she said in all seriousness. "And you will stay until the end. No more dramatic exits,  _elf_."

"As you wish,  _woman_ ," he replied, matching her petulance. However his lips betrayed him as they quirked up in the tiniest smile to which she responded with a cheeky grin. That encounter had turned out better than she expected.

Unfortunately, the same couldn't be said about the rest of the evening. If Bartrand had been just a greedy asshole, things would have been much easier. But that was not exactly the case and Hawke wished Varric hadn't seen the shell of a man the lyrium idol had turned his big brother into. Anders did his best and he was probably the finest healer in all Thedas, but even he wasn't capable to bring the older Tethras back to his old self. Varric was trying to be strong, to mask his real feelings with humor, but Hawke knew him too well to fall for that. She didn't miss the flicker of pain in his eyes when he understood what had really happened to his brother, his somber expression when Anders said there was nothing else he could do, or the way his voice broke as he lied to Bartrand that everything would be fine.

Varric wouldn't admit he was hurting, but Hawke knew he was and she hated that she couldn't do more than keep him company and buy him a few drinks at the Hanged Man. One would think a person so familiar with loss and grief like her would know better how to deal with it. Well, she didn't. Drinking, wallowing in self-pity and indulging in self-destructive behaviors were usually her way to go about it.

* * *

By the way her week had started, Hawke thought things were only going to get worse. However, with Sebastian keeping an eye on Mother Petrice, they weren't having any more troubles involving the Chantry and the Qunari, which gave Hawke time to take care of her other businesses, like the never ending problems of her haunted mines at the Bone Pit.

And finally she was also able to go to Sundermount and gather the last two ingredients Solivitus had asked her for. Since she took the opportunity to help Merrill get an old magic tool from her clan that might help her fix that cursed broken mirror she was obsessed with, Hawke thought it was best to take only the non-judgmental members of her group along – Varric, Isabela and Garrus. It turned out to be a wise choice. In the evening, when they set camp for the night, Merrill had a meltdown because of this elf who, utterly terrified that she was a blood mage, had ran away from her and to his death. The girl was feeling terribly guilty and if Aveline, Sebastian, Anders or Fenris were there they would certainly make her feel even worse.

Back in Kirkwall, she reunited with her crew at the Hanged Man.

"So, did you give Solivitus the blood?" Anders asked her.

Hawke raised her brows. "Do you mean the Dalish tattoo ink?"

"I mean elven blood. That's what it is," he insisted.

"I did," she answered defiantly.

Sebastian took interest on their conversation. "Did you at least ask him why he wanted it?"

"Yes. He said he wanted to find out what the elves put in it that keeps the blood from clotting," Hawke replied.

"That doesn't make it any better. Why does he want to know that?" Aveline asked.

"I didn't ask," Hawke said.

"He could've just asked me. It's something we distill from clover hay. I would've told him. It's useful for blood magic too if you want to save some blood from your previous spells and not slit your arm every time," Merrill started her usual naïve and more often than not compromising babbler.

"Hahaha! Very funny, Daisy! Now enough of that. So, you two," Varric hastily changed the subject, pointing at Hawke and Anders as he set his writing material on the table, "I need some details. Who jumped who? Did you swear eternal vows of love, or it this just a physical thing?"

"Are you two dating?" Aveline asked.

For once, Hawke didn't mind that her love life was again being brought into everyone's attention. Anything was better than letting Merrill go on about blood magic when Sebastian, Anders and Fenris were in the room. "We are," she promptly confirmed, to the healer's pleasant surprise.

"Since when? How come I missed this?! Oh? Does this mean Fenris is available?" Isabela asked.

Merrill clapped her hands cheerfully. "Aw! You make such a sweet couple! Wait. What did you mean about Fenris, Isabela?"

"It's just a joke, Kitten," the pirate replied. "Do not trouble your pretty little head with it."

"Is it really, whore?" Aveline provoked Isabela.

Dragging her hands over face, Hawke exhaled loudly. How come every time her crew was gathered it was impossible to have one normal conversation?

"Are you living together?" Varric asked them.

"Sort of," Anders said at the same time Hawke said, "Not really."

All the companions shot them curious looks and Anders muttered in feigned sweetness, "Can I talk to you in private, sweetheart?"

Hawke huffed and dragged herself out of the room with Anders, shooting Varric a nasty glare on her way out.

They went into an empty room further down the hall and she was ready for a screaming match, but instead he pinned her against the wall, pressing his body flush against hers and hungrily claiming her mouth. She returned his kisses loving the way his stubble grazed her smooth skin. His hands began to roam eagerly all over her body, sliding under her skirt to squeeze her ass and she shuddered and moaned wantonly, wounding a leg around him as she felt the tingling of magic on his fingers. Maker, how she loved the naughty uses of magic! And he knew very well how to use his abilities to have her keening and begging for him.

As she began fumbling with his robes, he stopped her, spinning her around and pushing her chest first against the wall. A shudder ran down her spine and she hastily shimmied out of her smalls, arching her back and shoving her ass against his erection. His hand slid down her stomach and between her legs and he inserted his middle finger with ease in her velvety core, finding her already all wet and ready for him.

Kicking her legs further apart, he freed his cock, teasing her slick entrance with his tip. She tried to take him in, to impale herself in his length, but he held her in place with a strong grasp on her hips, making her blow out a frustrated breath.

"Tell me what you want," he whispered in her ear.

"Damn you, mage! You know what I want."

"Say it."

"I want your fucking cock inside me! Now!"

With a pleased smile he hilted himself in her with one fast and hard thrust. "I'm moving in tonight. You better clear some space for me in  _our_  room," he said, panting as he pounded her with punishing force.

"Fine, as long as you fuck me like this every day," she replied in between gasps and groans. That blighted apostate really knew how to make her melt in his arms and damn her if she wasn't starting to love pissing him off and making him jealous just so he would take her like that.

* * *

While she was in Sundermount, Anders had been out on a quest of his own. "So, how did your work for Mistress Selby go?" she asked when they were finally getting ready to go to bed after unpacking his meager belongings in her estate.

"Well, I had to go to the Gallows and – "

"The Gallows? Fuck, Anders!"

"Hey, relax, sweetheart. Everything was fine. I had help."

"Did you, now?" Surely not from Sebastian, Fenris or Aveline, and since Merrill, Varric and Isabela were in Sundermount with her…

"Yes. Tess and Julian, from the mage underground," he answered, joining Hawke on the bed.

"Tessalyn? The Starkhaven bitch that was all over you that night at your clinic?"

He pulled her into his arms. "I love it when you're jealous, you know?"

"Have you two ever…?"

"Yes," he said, unworriedly running his fingers through her hair.

She raised her head to look at him, her voice an octave higher than usual. "And why didn't you tell me that?"

"Because it didn't mean anything. It happened a couple of years ago. You were with Cullen, but I was already so in love with you, it didn't work with her." He rolled them over so he was pinning her to the bed with his larger frame. Entwining their fingers, he kissed her slow and deeply and she just knew that it was true. She didn't have to worry; he was hers.

It was a shame that Justice was not happy with that arrangement.


	38. Madman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A LOT of things happen this chapter. No summaries this time. Just read it.

_Hawke, heard you got to the Free Marches. Don't know why you bother, but I suppose it's better than Orlais. They got spiders up there? Big ones? Couldn't swing a dead cat around here without hitting a giant spider, but the Blight drove 'em off. Maker! Dark days ahead. A man can't even cover this blighted land with poisonous traps! I guess it doesn't matter anymore. The land here is tainted and I don't think anything will grow here again._

_Think 'bout you sometimes when I think 'bout my boy. Just wanted you to know I don't blame you. Not anymore. Hope you're doing well for yourself out there, kid._

_Old Barlin_

With tears in her eyes, Hawke carefully folded the letter, returned it to its envelope and put it inside a chest with a few mementos she kept from her family and her old life in Lothering. Barlin hadn't said much in his letter. He wasn't the type to share his feelings and she knew it must not have been easy for him to write to her. No wonder it had taken him years to do so and she was glad he had done it. Those few kind words of his meant the world to her. Anything that would help soothe the pain and the guilt for what had happened to Arthur was welcome and she would take it and hold it dear to her.

Her day was off to a good start and she went to Hanged Man proud and gingerly carrying the enchanted potted plant Merrill had given her when she was in prison in her arms . It was springtime in Kirkwall and the plant had blossomed. To everyone's surprise it turned out to be some kind of flower.

"So  _Claudette_  is not a cactus after all, eh? Good for you, Hawke," Varric said, remembering how she had named the plant.

Anders took a closer look at the big yellow-and-orange flower. "It's an Orlesian Marigold," he supplied.

"See? My choice of name for her it's not so ridiculous now, is it, dwarf?" Hawke teased her short friend.

"The oil you get from distilling it is very effective against fungal infections," Anders continued.

Hawke wrapped her arms protectively around the pot. "Keep your hands off my flower, mage."

Sebastian almost choked on his drink, while Varric and Isabela burst into laughter. "Don't worry, Blondie. She doesn't really mean that," the dwarf said, wiping tears off his eyes.

"Does anyone know what it represents?" Fenris asked, trying to put them back on track. He was not comfortable with the direction the conversation had taken.

"Nobility, perhaps?" Sebastian suggested.

Garrus gave a loud and sure bark.

"He thinks it's courage, isn't that right, boy?" Hawke translated and appreciatively scratched the mabari behind his ears.

Aveline scoffed. "Arrogance would be more like it."

"Good morning to you too, Aveline. I hadn't seen you there," Hawke retorted wryly.

All the companions turned to Merrill, who this time wasn't really oblivious to their conversation, but just pretending to be. "So, Daisy, what is it?" Varric asked.

She dropped her eyes, obviously embarrassed. "Oh… uh…"

"I bet it's something kinky! It means sex, doesn't it? Lots and lots of sex," Isabela said, drawling the words suggestively, a lewd smile on her face.

"I don't think there's a plant that means sex, whore," Aveline said.

"There should be! What about cucumber?" the Rivaini woman replied.

"Please, let the mage say what it is," Fenris practically begged them.

"Oh," the elven girl uttered, her tone a pitch higher than usual, as if she was about to cry. "It means… pain and grief. I'm so sorry, Hawke. I never thought…"

"That's rather ominous, isn't it?" Sebastian remarked.

"Pain  _and_  grief?" Hawke glared at the plant as if it had just tried to stab her in the back. The look in her eyes was of rage and disappointment. She thought she was having a good day, but it had just taken a turn for the worse. "Are you fucking kidding me?!"

She seemed to be about to tear Claudette apart, but then she couldn't. Merrill had said that in that pot would grow a plant that matched her, her life and personality and that damned Orlesian Marigold did. Pain and grief had shaped her, made her who she was, but she was damned if she was going to let that be the rest of her life too.

* * *

It was early in the morning when Hawke arrived home, after spending the whole night dealing with that freak, Gascard DuPuis, and then another annoying Hightown gang. Anders had probably left for his clinic already and she wanted nothing more than to hog their bed and sleep the whole day off.

Her mother, however, had other plans. She and Orana were sewing and the older woman insisted Hawke should help them with the intricate embroidery of her new dress.

Since Hawke had been arrested, the invitations for the other noble's events had stopped coming, so out of curiosity she asked Leandra what the new gown was for.

Her mother's eyes twinkled with excitement, in a way Hawke hadn't seen ever since her father had gotten ill and passed many years ago. "I have a suitor," Leandra replied with a shy smile. "You and Anders seem so happy together, I think it's time I remarry and leave this house just for you and your kids."

There was so much wrong in that sentence Hawke didn't even know where to start.

"So I'm making this dress to wear on my date this weekend," her mother added, all but jumping on her feet like a teenager with a crush.

Hawke looked at her with shocked, wide, round eyes. "A date?"

"Yes! You have to meet him, Marian. He's so –"

"Mother!" Hawke cut her off. "It is great that you have a suitor and you're… going out with him, but please don't tell me about it. I really don't want to know."

Her mother was going out on dates? Thinking about remarrying? What the fuck? Hawke was not prepared – and she didn't think she would ever be – to see her mother with a man other than her father. Instead of going up to her room, she took the stairs down to the cellar. Suddenly, she needed a drink even more than she needed sleep.

* * *

Isabela thought she would have a great the day chasing assassins to fulfill some Chanter's Board request with Hawke, Varric and Merrill, but instead she got caught up in the middle of the weirdest courtship ever and it was all Hawke's fault. The damned woman had decided to stop by the Keep before they went on what would certainly be a fun killing spree around Kirkwall, just to tell Man-Hands she had dealt with this crazy Orlesian blood mage and annihilated some stupid all-female gang that had been working Hightown; and, of course, Hawke hadn't missed the opportunity to provoke Man-Hands saying that she had done her job for her.  _"Again"_.

It was the " _again"_  that had done it for Aveline. Irate, she had chased Hawke away from the Keep, but actually ordered Isabela to stay behind. The pirate still didn't know why she had complied (maybe because she was caught by surprise), but she had and now she regretted it. At least Merrill had stayed there too to keep her company and look adorably confused while Isabela had to assist the worst attempts at flirting in the history of Thedas.

When Man-Hands' pathetic courtship "tactics" failed for the third time to convey any coherent messages to her intended… well, given the circumstances, "victim" seemed more like the appropriate word, the rogue decided she'd had enough.

"Life's too short. I'll get him in here."

"Isabela, don't! I will not risk –"

"That's the problem! Risk or, so help me, I'll bed the man myself!"

That line pretty much settled the matter. Aveline chided herself internally for having chosen Isabela for that job, but it wasn't like she could ask one of the guardsmen or Hawke to do something like that for her. Hawke knew how to have her way with men. Since they arrived in Kirkwall, Aveline had seen her with quite a few lovers and she didn't want Hawke to witness her fumbling like an inexperienced teenager just to get a guy to notice her; and least of all find out that she hadn't been with anyone since Wesley. She would never hear the end of it. Obviously, the pirate wasn't the ideal person to help her either, but Hawke had too little respect for her already without seeing her acting all insecure because of a man.

Maybe Sebastian would have helped without embarrassing her, but now it was already too late for that. She would have to make this work right now, Isabela's way.

"Captain, what's going on?" Donnic followed the Rivaini woman inside Aveline's office.

The guardswoman blushed to the tip of her ears while Merrill clapped her hands excitedly. "You told him already, Isabela? Aw, they are so adorable!"

The pirate looked at the two clueless guards. "You're a daft couple of… " she stopped mid-sentence and rolled her eyes. "Just… take a hint and bend her over a basin, will you?" she told Donnic and grabbed Merrill, hastily getting out of the office and closing the door behind them before Aveline could answer.

* * *

The next time they met at the Hanged Man, Aveline took out of her pouch a clear glass bottle with a small wooden ship built inside. "Hey, Isabela… I… uh… found this while I was with Varric tracking down Javaris."

"Aww, isn't it the cutest thing?" the Rivaini woman cooed.

Looking a little embarrassed, the Guard-Captain replied, "Yes, I… I thought you might like it."

The pirate queen looked at the other woman with wide eyes and mouth hanging open. "You're giving me a gift?"

"Just take it, whore! Don't make me regret this," Aveline shoved the bottle in Isabela's hands.

"Is this because I helped you out with Guardsman  _Hunky Hunk_?"

Aveline scoffed. "If you call that help…"

Isabela shot her a knowing look. "You're together, aren't you?"

"Yes," the Guard-Captain admitted, trying to disguise her blush. "Thank you."

* * *

When Hawke went to the Docks to collect from a mage for killing the assassins that were after him, she found out he was Sketch, a spirit healer and old friend of Sister Leliana's. He had helped the bard get the Battledress of the Provocateur – the beautiful armor Hawke had seen in the Sister's possession back in Lothering and that had prompted a conversation that resulted in Leliana training Hawke and Arthur to become rogues.

Sketch ended up staying in Kirkwall for a few days and going on some jobs with Hawke, giving Anders a break to take care of his clinic and make more copies of his manifesto to distribute all over the city, which appeased Justice for the time being.

However, after Hawke brought Sketch along to destroy the last of Tarohne's evil tomes – the Fell Grimoire, that was in a cave in Darktown – the elven mage decided he'd had enough. Once they had finally killed the powerful desire demon Xebenkeck, Sketch went straight to the Hanged Man to pack his belongings and get back on the road.

Anders did not hesitate leaving yet another copy of his manifesto to be finished some other time and started following Hawke around again. Justice, however, did not approve and made an appearance to remind Hawke of his discontent.

"YOU ARE IN OUR WAY, HUMAN. WE DO NOT NEED YOU. ANDERS DOES NOT NEED YOU."

Hawke raised one eyebrow, unimpressed. "That is not your call,  _demon._ "

Justice did not take her offense lightly and Anders' whole body lit up, enveloped in bright blue glow. He looked taller, larger and… threatening. It really seemed like he was going to attack her when suddenly human Anders broke through. "Maker, all this anger… What happened?"

"I just had a chat with Justice."

"Sweetheart, I'm so sorry. I'm trying to keep him quiet, but –"

"– you're not doing a pretty good job. He hates me, Anders."

He was going to say something else, but she wasn't in the mood. She didn't want to hear any excuses. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she blew out a tired breath. "Look, Anders, let's just go."

* * *

Nothing. There were no tears or a desperate cry or even a gasp. They all looked at her expectantly, waiting for her reaction so they could act accordingly, comfort her and help in any way they could, but she didn't do anything but blink.

Her eyes were empty and her voice was void of any emotions when she finally spoke. "Sebastian, can you set up a service and a funeral pyre at the Chantry as soon as possible? Varric, let the families of the other women know what happened and invite them to the service. Aveline, will you deliver the news to Gamlen? Anders, can you do something to keep my… the body from… uh," she swallowed and took a deep breath, "…falling apart until we can have the service? Thank you all for your help. I need to see Bethany now and I rather go alone."

Fenris was there too. She had called everyone she could reach to help her find Leandra. When she walked out of the foundry without giving the elf anything to do, he exchanged a glance with Varric. The dwarf nodded. They both had the same idea. Right after her, the elf left and climbed to the rooftops so he could follow her without her noticing him and make sure she would be safe.

* * *

Hawke was completely numb as she left that foundry with only Garrus in tow. She didn't want to think, she didn't want to remember, she didn't want to feel; right at that moment she didn't even want to live. Her mother had told her about some suitor, but Hawke had pretended it wasn't happening. She had been selfish, acting like a child, sulking and pouting at the idea of her mother being with another man instead of paying attention to her and watching out for her. All the opportunities to save and protect Leandra had been missed, because Hawke was deliberately trying to ignore the fact that her mother had moved on "only" eight years after her father had passed.

Gamlen had told Hawke, when Anders had moved into her house, that she was just like her mother. It figured that Leandra would find another apostate to get involved with. And of course he would turn out to be an insane blood mage, after all, this was Kirkwall they were talking about. The city was crawling with those types. How come the same place on Thedas that housed more templars than anywhere else, also had a damned blood mage hiding in every corner? Someone wasn't doing their job. Bethany, who had never hurt a fly, was locked up in the Circle while monsters like Quentin were running loose. Everything was wrong there and she didn't want to try to fix it anymore; she just wanted to drop it.

Going to the Gallows at that time of the night was asking for trouble. There would be no one else but templars there and saying that most of them didn't like Hawke was a safe assumption. She had only Garrus with her and would be an easy target if they sought retaliation for Ser Karras' death. At least it was only Cullen who knew she had murdered Ser Alrik too.

She asked for the Knight-Captain and waited outside the gate for what seemed like forever until he finally showed up, wearing full armor but the helmet. Keran was right behind him, correctly guessing that her visit there had something to do with Bethany.

"Mother was murdered. I need to tell Bethany," Hawke said coldly.

"Maker! I'm so sorry, Marian." Cullen slipped an arm between the bars of the gate and squeezed her hand. "But I'm afraid you can't come in like this, at this time of the night. We can set up for you to meet her in the morning."

Hawke grabbed him by the collar and pulled him towards her with all her strength, making him bump his head painfully against one of the iron bars of the gate. "Listen to me, Cullen," she said between gritted teeth. "Mother was just murdered by a fucking blood mage you let run loose in the city. You will let me come in here and talk to my sister right now. You owe me,  _templar_ ," she spat, the last word dripping with venom.

A few other templars began to approach them, attracted by the loud noise the Knight-Captain's armor had made as it had hit the gate. They were certainly suspecting something might be wrong there, so she let Cullen go. She had enough problems for one night.

Cullen wiped a trickle of blood that had run down his forehead and pressed the palm of his hand firmly against the cut she had caused him to stop the bleeding. "Before you accuse me of not doing my job,  _Serah Hawke_ ," he said, matching her tone and spite, "are you sure this wasn't one of the many mages you helped, protected or simply failed to report in the past years?"

No, she wasn't sure. Quentin could be; she had no idea. She had been so frantic on her search for her mother that she hadn't even paid attention to the letters, books, notes or anything in his hideout that might have given her more on him, who he was and where he had come from. And she didn't even want to think about Gascard DuPuis – the mage she had murdered a few days before for crimes that she now knew he hadn't committed. He was probably telling the truth when he had said Quentin had taken his sister too. Fuck, what had she done? What had she become?

It was getting harder and harder to suppress her emotions. She wanted to scream, to kick, to kill, to die, but she wasn't going to have a melt down there, in front of all those templars. Cullen wasn't going to let her in; that ship had already sailed, so it was best to just get the fuck out of there.

"Keran, tell Bethany what happened and be there for her. Take care of her, okay? Tell her that I'm sorry," she said, barely keeping her voice from breaking. But she managed and now there was only one more thing she had to take care of before she could have her meltdown.

She walked back to her estate and stopped at her doorstep. "Fenris," she called. How come a glowing white-haired elf believed he could follow her without being seen was beyond her.

He dropped to the ground, right in front of her. "Hawke, I –"

"No, I don't want pity, comfort, sympathies, nothing. I need you to go back to that foundry and tell Aveline or whoever's still there to gather all evidence on Quentin, find out who he was, if he had people helping him, mentor, disciples, followers, whatever and then go after them all. This can't happen to anyone else, it's just too… fucked up."

He opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off again. "Go, Fenris. Please."

As the elf got out of sight, Hawke walked away from her doorstep and disappeared into the night with her mabari.

* * *

The Grey Wardens were setting up camp outside Kirkwall, where they would stay for about a week or maybe less if everything went as planned. Alistair wondered if he would have time to go the Hanged Man, the tavern where he had spent a good few months of his life, a couple of years ago. The tavern where he had met Marian Hawke.

If she could see him now, she would be proud. He had returned to Ferelden and to the Grey Wardens, like she had encouraged him to do. In only one night, she had changed his life. She had made him feel like a man again. She had made him feel worth. She had given back to him everything that Elissa had taken away from him.

It was so unfair that he had lost her. And to the Deep Roads and darkspawn, of all things.

Alistair rubbed at his eyes and sighed tiredly. The journey to Kirkwall had been exhausting. Thank the Maker he had a lot of practice setting up tents and his was ready in seconds. The other Wardens were still struggling with theirs, but he didn't offer them any help. He didn't feel particularly connected to this group of people as he had felt with Elissa's during the Blight and couldn't find it in himself to care about them.

He was cleaning his armor by the fire when he caught a glimpse of a woman leaving the city. It was pitch dark at that late hour. Wasn't she afraid? At least she had a dog with her. Despite the darkness of that moonless night, he could tell it was a mabari. That breed was very distinctive. And very Fereldan. How odd.

She didn't pass by their camp, taking the route to the Wounded Coast instead and her silhouette quickly disappeared amid the trees and high grass on the sides of the road. Alistair smiled fondly; she reminded him of Hawke.


End file.
